The boy went with me on an errand this day, in this week of many errands. Holidays are marvelous, but they're the opposite of the routine that keeps my son and my family comfortable, so it seemed right to do one thing we always do.

Together we hauled recycling bins, from the basement to the car, and hefted them into the trunk. He is getting to be kind of huge, so it presented no challenge for him to lift them, despite the seasonal increase in Daddy's empty glass bottles.

He seems fired up at a chance to use his muscles. One sick day, one off day, and one weekend day when his parents were busy, have left him ready to run around. I'm tempted to ask him to carry it all back in and bring it out again, because I know this isn't going to be enough... but I doubted that I could explain to him why. So we hop in, him in the front seat too, just like the big boy he is, and he croons his happy autistic little song as we pull the car out of the drive.

His arms flap a bit as we get rolling - so much to see that he hasn't lately seen. He starts to cackle a bit at the stop sign, which I block out to be safe as I navigate. Once our flow is one with the traffic, I glance to see how his face looks, to make sure all is as well as it seems.

He's crinkling his nose as he tries to see clearly - I give a quick nudge to his glasses, settle them better, so his face can relax. At the stoplight, he says it, distinctly and clearly, and I see I should have known all along.

"Snow."

"WHITE snow."

Well, of course. He's been watching showsful of holiday stuff, and the weather just started to cooperate. (I think one of his video favorites is insistent about the adjective.) Flurries whip past at an increasing rate, as we drive for a mile to the spot where we stop. He's enthused the whole way, and just cannot stop saying it.

"Snow."

"WHITE snow."

We make the last turn, and weave among the giant bins, abandoned in the corner of a near-abandoned lot. The big ones for the newspapers are of a favorite color of his, and it seems to tangle in his synapses as we go past.

"Snow."

"Yewwow."

"YEWWOW snow."

I cracked up. My little sweetheart had no idea why, but he was eager to be helping with the next thing by that point. Our errand concluded, without further incidents of note.

It's just another little brilliancy among all the others, and I'm pleased to relate them all here. As always. So lovely. So cozy and warm. So right, to do this thing I always do.

Please, all, have the best of holidays.

It's a brilliant time of the year, so long as you watch out where the huskies go.