Otto's + shoe skating = one great day

Today, we got up and went to breakfast at Otto's with mom. It was a nice treat for the boys, who ordered cinnamon rolls. They were as big as their faces! And as sweet, too. Usually, I don't approve of so much sugar at breakfast, or anytime, really, but sometimes a treat has to be a treat.
It was typical eggs and bacon for me, with a toasted English muffin. Mom had the same.
Otto's is one of those nifty mid-west cafes which remains unchanged by time. When you walk in the door, you are thrown back to the late '40s, early '50s at least. The counter, the stools, the booths -- all vintage in gray and blue and pink. It's the kind of place that makes you stop looking at your watch. You feel safe there. You forget that one day very soon crazy people may be running our country.
Breakfast was lovely, and Daniel even got in on the action with a little egg yolk. Yum.
We headed to grandpa's after our meal.
We've been getting freezing rain here the past few days, and many streets and sidewalks are paved in a crystalline layer of ice. Grandpa's driveway is covered, a single slippery surface that slopes into the street, which is also encrusted in a thick layer of ice. The boys got out of the truck and immediately began sliding all around, giggling with glee and falling on their knees, and sometimes other areas with more padding! Josiah shouted to me as I was gingerly walking to the front door with Daniel, "Look mom! I'm shoe-skating!!"
Everything is a great adventure for my sons. They find the challenge, the wonder, the fun in just about anything they are faced with. There is an abandon with which they meet life. A trust that everything will be all right. And when they are knocked on their small rumpuses, providing there is no bloodshed (that's a whole other scene altogether), they get back up and keep on skating.
I watch them from the door. I smile at them. I fear for them. I pray for them. I pray they will keep on skating. . . no matter what.