Statistics Poetry

Peter took Thomas and Anna sledding today. We finally achieved the ideal convergence of warm-ish temperature and snow so they seized on the opportunity and headed to a nearby park. They must have had a thrilling time because I was given two accounts of their morning out at the same time.

Later on I learned that my oldest son is a boy of many talents, one of which includes the writing of poetry.

He discovered my old electric typewriter in the basement and has been hammering out all sorts of messages. It's like living with the young Edward R. Murrow. When he had warmed up from his snowy escapades he went down and typed out this gem:

120 steps to climb the mountain
12 times sledding down
2 times down alone

My favorite part of his post-sledding narrative was when he told me he fell over when going down by himself. And how he has a hard time controlling the sled. So the next time he went down by himself with Daddy.