It’s Fothy Today

My daily delight: waking up to fog — a rarity in our parts 40 miles south of the famous Karl of San Francisco — and instantly being transported back in time when my daughter was a year and a half old.

She couldn’t say the “g” sound yet so everytime she said “fog” it sounded like “fod” with a soft d, like “th” … she heard it but couldn’t correct it and it would lead to so many belly laughs over repeated “Ma, foth! Look, foth! So much foth!”

Fog will never just be fog for me.