It's cold. Very cold. I'm not whining . . . actually, I am whining. It's MARCH, for flaggle's sake. This thing where it was blustery with temps in teens and a windchill below zero is simply not acceptable. It's totally reasonable to expect 30's and 40's in March in Pittsburgh.

I am reasonable.

I'm also stubborn.

I made up my mind a few days ago that I was done wearing a winter coat. I'll wear 63 layers of sweaters and t-shirts, but my winter coat? Can just hang out in the back seat of my car. If I break down or something, I'll consider caving to the downy goodness, but short of an emergency? FORGET IT. It's March, dangnabit, and I am determined to act like it.

That is how I managed to find myself huddled by my car, shivering as I pumped gas into my very empty tank. I had on a sweater, a t-shirt, and an undershirt, but none of that was doing much of anything for my hands. My very cold, stiff hands. Because the universe loves to smack me around when I'm being stubborn, the gas station I was at didn't have those fun little latches that allow you to hide in your car while the tank fills. Nope, it was a You Stand Here and Feel the Freeze, You Dummy sort of pump.

I pondered how long it would take for frostbite to set in as I switched from holding the handle with one hand to the other. And back again. I thought about the fact that there were gloves sitting just a few feet away in my car. I glanced at the long line of cars waiting for a gas pump, surely driven by people who would not be amused if I stopped pumping gas to get gloves. I debated whether I would rather die from an infection when I had to have my frostbitten fingers amputated, or from a pissed off driver running me over with their out-of-gas car.

Then I looked up and a little someone caught my eye.

As I peered through the back window of the car, Alexis peered back at me. She had turned her head as far as she could and was intently watching me over her shoulder. As our eyes locked, she grinned the biggest grin you have ever seen. As I automatically grinned back, she quickly lifted her left hand and flashed "I love you" to me in sign language.

Who needs a coat and gloves when you've got a kid to make you feel all warm and fuzzy?