Mara muttered under her breath as she slid on the icy parking lot. Was it really worth backtracking to find her five-year-old’s mittens? The breeze caught her hair and slapped her face. It stung, eliciting another curse. She could save herself the frustration by running into the store and buying a new pair. However, they wouldn’t be lovingly knit by Granny. 

Her husband warned her to clip them to Colt’s coat to prevent this exact situation. Well, wouldn’t Jared enjoy telling her he was right? If there was a hot cup of cocoa while she thawed out, she’d let him gloat. This time. 

He was cozy in the van as Mara rounded a gray pile of slush, a bright spot of color beckoning to her. Ha, she’d found them! She darted forward, grumbling when a car drove past, splashing her and scattering the yellow mittens. Mara scurried after them, lunging for the nearest one before slipping on black ice and tumbling to the blacktop. She groaned. There’d be a bruise on her backside tomorrow. She crawled forward, freed one from a shopping cart wheel, and snatched up its mate, hugging them to herself. A car honked, and she ignored the non-holiday greeting the driver offered.

She limped back to the idling minivan. Jared raised an eyebrow as she held soggy mittens up like a trophy. The interior was warm as she climbed in. He shifted, opening his mouth. Mara held up a hand, staring straight ahead.

“Don’t say a word.”

Word: Mittens | Action: untangle