For the Love of Sweaters

We went on a fieldtrip to this lovely place with some neighborhood kids and moms the other day.

Can you see why I’ve decided to fall head over heels for Utah?

This lake has a nice boardwalk around it.  I thought that would be a perfect way to enjoy nature without a hassle (nobody would get dirty so cleanup would be non-existent).

Lydia loved the boardwalk.

She loved the rocks, trees, and flowers (although, she wouldn’t sit still long enough for my inferior camera’s slow shutter speed to capture an image of that love).

She was staying amazingly clean.  We were having a great time.

See that sweater?

Isn’t it adorable?  Hand made, by my wonderful mother-in-law.  I love it.  A lot. 

And apparently, Lydia loves it more than life itself.

As we were nearing the end of our “hike,” Lydia fell backwards into the shallow marsh.  (Thank goodness it happened in the marsh, and not the deep lake).  I scooped her out while she cried and screamed.  I removed her soaking, muddy sweater so she could dry off.  I held her face close to my face and whispered soothing words while I walked away from the offending marsh.

The screaming continued for a quarter mile.  This is uncharacteristic behavior for Lydia, so I began to worry that maybe she had seriously hurt herself.

Until she was able to compose herself enough to belt out a long, loud, pleading, sobbing, “SWEATERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

Oh. 

I put the sweater back on and the crying ceased.

Grandma Diane, you better never stop making sweaters for this girl.