When we left the Mexican restaurant on my lunch date with my wife and my daughter yesterday afternoon, there was three or four inches of snow on the ground with more falling. I walked to the car and started it. My intent was to drive to the front door of the dining establishment so that the ladies wouldn’t have to trudge through the snow to get in. As luck would have it, a slick pavement coupled with a slight incline to the parking stall (Leavenworth, Kansas, is hilly!) proved to be just enough to cause the car to slide forward rather than roll backwards. None of my cold weather driving skills helped, and I soon found the Boss and our daughter standing at the side of the car. The Boss loaded the girl into the rear seat before the following conversation took place:
“I’ll push,” the Boss said.
“No you won’t,” I replied.
“I’ve got boots on, you don’t,” she said. “I’ll push you out.” This is the practical, Minnesota, tomboy, airline ramper that I fell in love with and married. You can take the girl off of the blue collar ramp, but you cannot take the blue collar off of the girl, no matter how much she protests otherwise.
“OH, NO YOU WON’T!” I told her. “I will not sit in a car while my wife pushes me out of a parking stall.”
Folks, a man doesn’t sit in a car and allow a woman to push him out of a snow bank. It just doesn’t happen. Not if I want to retain a shred of self-respect. I don’t care if my back felt then like it does now. I’d still get out and push.
I opened the door and stepped out of the car. She sat down, put the car in reverse, and after two attempts and two mighty pushes the car was on the street, ready for the ride home.
Five minutes later I was convinced that my lower back was still on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.
That’s where my family doctor and good narcotics enter this story.
I’ve spent the past twenty four hours wincing around the house bent over like an osteoporotic hunchback looking for the next bell to ring. I could be the cover model on the next issue of Kyphosis Quarterly. Of course, the Boss has been teasing me. “You should have just let me push. I had the boots.” Both my doctor and his nurse replied the same way when I asked them if a man should allow his wife to push their car out of a snow bank while the man drove.
NO!
Chivalry isn’t dead.
But my back is.
Showing posts with label snow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snow. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
We Are Having Hamburgers For Dinner
We are having hamburgers for dinner.
Two inches of snow fell in northeastern Kansas last night. Naturally, school had to be closed. In northern states, school children of all ages walk to school in two inches of snow so often that if someone comments on it the answer is usually, “It snowed last night?” The people who are paid to make a wild guess at the weather forecast predicted that we’d be getting more snow this afternoon, which I suspect is the real reason that the school district shut down. Egads! Bobby and Susie might have to walk home in four inches of snow.
A few hours after shoveling our walk and our driveway, and after clearing off the Boss’ car, I strolled over to Bob’s house to shovel his driveway. That was when General Mayhem told me that he broke our shovel. He was using it in the backyard to gather snow for a fort. I was really annoyed, but only due to the fact that I did not have another shovel with which to shovel Bob’s place. Our snow shovel was old and well used. It died in service to yet another snowfall. May it rest in a landfill for a thousand years in peace. I appreciated the General’s honesty.
Bob was wearing pants when he answered his front door, which was a bonus but is not always a guarantee. I asked him if I could use his shovel to clear his driveway.
“Why?!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “The snow will be gone by my birthday!”
His birthday is in July.
“Because this is wet, heavy, heart attack snow,” I told him. “And I know you. You’ll get a wild hair and decide to shovel.”
He went in search of his snow shovel, but couldn’t find it. I spent the next half an hour shoveling his driveway and front walk using a square garden shovel. It did a great job. I was able to scrape off the ice and snow clear to the pavement, and the blade was so small that I couldn’t pick up a large, heavy scoop full of snow. Large, heavy scoops full of wet snow have brought down more than a few shovelers with massive heart attacks.
Bob disappeared into his house while I cleared the ground. I thought he was going back inside to put in his teeth. Sometimes he does that. Bob has dress teeth and work teeth and no teeth. His dress teeth are his nicest pair. He wears them for church and visits to the doctor. His work teeth aren’t as pleasant, and they are missing a couple of teeth in the front, but I guess they work for chewing. Today he was going au natural. When he came out of his house he handed me a bag. It contained three pounds of ground beef.
"I bought the wrong kind of beef," he gummed.
The fat content was too high, and he wanted to make room in the freezer for the new ground beef that he was going to buy. Bob also told me that he was a bit high on Oxycontin for pain in his back and legs. I suspect that he wanted to do something to thank me for shoveling his walk. It is the first time that I have been paid with beef for shoveling snow.
And that is why we are having hamburgers for dinner.
Two inches of snow fell in northeastern Kansas last night. Naturally, school had to be closed. In northern states, school children of all ages walk to school in two inches of snow so often that if someone comments on it the answer is usually, “It snowed last night?” The people who are paid to make a wild guess at the weather forecast predicted that we’d be getting more snow this afternoon, which I suspect is the real reason that the school district shut down. Egads! Bobby and Susie might have to walk home in four inches of snow.
A few hours after shoveling our walk and our driveway, and after clearing off the Boss’ car, I strolled over to Bob’s house to shovel his driveway. That was when General Mayhem told me that he broke our shovel. He was using it in the backyard to gather snow for a fort. I was really annoyed, but only due to the fact that I did not have another shovel with which to shovel Bob’s place. Our snow shovel was old and well used. It died in service to yet another snowfall. May it rest in a landfill for a thousand years in peace. I appreciated the General’s honesty.
Bob was wearing pants when he answered his front door, which was a bonus but is not always a guarantee. I asked him if I could use his shovel to clear his driveway.
“Why?!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “The snow will be gone by my birthday!”
His birthday is in July.
“Because this is wet, heavy, heart attack snow,” I told him. “And I know you. You’ll get a wild hair and decide to shovel.”
He went in search of his snow shovel, but couldn’t find it. I spent the next half an hour shoveling his driveway and front walk using a square garden shovel. It did a great job. I was able to scrape off the ice and snow clear to the pavement, and the blade was so small that I couldn’t pick up a large, heavy scoop full of snow. Large, heavy scoops full of wet snow have brought down more than a few shovelers with massive heart attacks.
Bob disappeared into his house while I cleared the ground. I thought he was going back inside to put in his teeth. Sometimes he does that. Bob has dress teeth and work teeth and no teeth. His dress teeth are his nicest pair. He wears them for church and visits to the doctor. His work teeth aren’t as pleasant, and they are missing a couple of teeth in the front, but I guess they work for chewing. Today he was going au natural. When he came out of his house he handed me a bag. It contained three pounds of ground beef.
"I bought the wrong kind of beef," he gummed.
The fat content was too high, and he wanted to make room in the freezer for the new ground beef that he was going to buy. Bob also told me that he was a bit high on Oxycontin for pain in his back and legs. I suspect that he wanted to do something to thank me for shoveling his walk. It is the first time that I have been paid with beef for shoveling snow.
And that is why we are having hamburgers for dinner.
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