So Sebastian and I made it safely to the gym.  On the way home, I sent him into the grocery store to get supplies so I could make National Championship Chili and Queso. I generously offered to wait in the car and keep it warm for him.

He was so grateful.

While waiting in the cozy warmth of my car, I decided to check in with Anthony, who was still at his buddy’s house.

The voice that answered his phone was way too deep to be Anthony’s.

“Not Anthony, right?”

“Hi, it’s Kyle.  Anthony’s outside,”  said Anthony’s friend’s older brother’s friend.  “Playing football.”

At the time, it was a whopping 12 degrees.  But only on the thermometer.  In reality, the windchill factor dropped that number at least that far below 0 degrees.  Not to mention a nice deep layer of snow on the ground.

“You’re kidding me.”  I could only hope.

“Haha.  No.  They’re really out there.”

What idiots.

“Well, if his fingers are still working when he gets back in, have him call me.”

“Okay.  See ya.”

Oh, to be young.  Impervious not only to the effects of windchill, but to the concerns of your mama, as well!

(You will all be relieved to learn that the little darlings made it inside after the game with blood still flowing in all extremities.)