Show it, don't say it - Take 2

I remember returning from an evening ski trip with my older son. We'd had a fine outing, though I was anxious about whether my wife was able to get outside with our younger boy, who was nursing a fairly rough cold through the day. All I wanted to do now was track him down to see if he'd managed a whiff of fresh air, maybe tossing a snowball or two.

On entering our home I didn't have to ask; there, over the heat register, sat a small pair of damp red mittens. The sight of them made me smile, and I was filled with a simple, vicarious contentment.