Honestly, I haven't been this happy since Christmas when I was seven years old and my father showed me how to make a snow angel. Actually, he was passed out drunk in the yard... But I did take his arms and his legs and move them back and forth... And... the paramedics said it was one of the finest snow angels that they'd ever seen. So, maybe the fact that I am the kinder, gentler Cox is every last bit of okay. Maybe it's a... a natural progression. It's not like there's any real ramifications... right?