It's strange the way your fingers freeze, not straight away but just as you start to believe maybe they won't. And noses too. Even the "I-don't-need-a-coat" son buys a scarf. I shop for gloves 'cause Mum says I should.
It's strange the way hats and scarves and gloves disappear from year to year. Then you enter the store; your ears feeling cold as you leave. "Where's your hat?" "I don't know."
It's strange the way it feels like the year before with no time in between. Mum's here with Christmas in her smile, and while shopping for food should be boring it's turned into fun when we do it as one.
So maybe it's not so strange after all, just beginning to feel like Christmas. The family arrives and it's cold outside.