The cabin gets that reaction from people.
Especially the first time.
"It's huge."
"It isn't huge."
"It has two floors."
"That's not huge."
"It has a porch."
"Still not huge."
"It has a porch swing."
I glance toward the house.
Fair point.
The porch swing is pretty great.
Jillie gasps.
"Mom. Did you know about the porch swing?"
Sadie laughs. "No, honey."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't know."
Jillie shakes her head as though we've both failed an important life test.
Children are exhausting.
We unload quickly.
The wind has picked up.
Snowflakes swirl around us.
Jillie immediately claims responsibility for carrying the smallest bag which she drags dramatically through six inches of snow while pretending to be an Arctic explorer.
By the time we reach the front door, she's narrating her survival journey.
"Day twelve in the wilderness."
"It's been thirty seconds," Sadie says.
"Food supplies are low."
"You have crackers in your pocket."
"Morale remains strong."
I unlock the door.
