It may be February, but it’s still Christmastime in the Starlet household. An innocuous gift of “Frosty the Snowman” means that Mr. Starlet now has competition for Punk’s undying affections.
“Frosty the Snowman” never sees the inside of its case. At any given moment, Mr. Starlet can recite the next line or two or five. His favorite describes Frosty as “the best belly whopper in the world,” said in a thick New Jersey accent to render a perfect impression of the narrator.
As for Punk, she asks for Frosty morning, noon, and night. And to her, it’s absolutely critical that Mr. Starlet and I be kept updated on Frosty’s perilous journey.
When Frosty's hat is stolen by the magician, Punk cries out, "Hat! Hat!"
When Frosty heads to the train station to begin his trip to the North Pole, she announces, “Frosty home! Frosty go home!”
And when the final credits roll, we can hear her softly bidding Frosty adieu: “Bye, Frosty. See you later.”
Quickly followed by, “Again! Frosty, again!”
I love that at this point in her life, I can make everything OK at the press of a button.
One night after dinner, I decided to put off the dishes and join her for the second showing of “Frosty” that evening. And like any good mom, I decided to immerse myself in the angst I thought Punk was surely feeling as Frosty started to melt.
“Oh no! What’s going to happen to Frosty?,” I asked aloud.
Quietly she rolled over, patted my shoulder, and looked deep into my eyes.
“Frosty fine, Mommy. Frosty fine.”
Oh how I love this girl.
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