Like all past winters this one was no different. It snowed. It thawed. It froze. To add to all the things I don’t like about winter the snow plow drivers can be real jerks. I do my best to clear my driveway, and on the street 30 feet in either direction. My hope is that Mr. Plow will see that I’m trying to keep plowed snow from piling up in my freshly cleared driveway. But NO. They take it as an invitation to pile the ice, chunks of asphalt, slush and snow on my newly visible blacktop. When this happens I give up, lock in my 4 wheel drive and drive over the snow pile on my driveway for a few days and when my wife’s car can no longer climb the man made embankment I break out the shovel, ice breakers, and my filthy mouth and spend 2-3 hours busting up the mess, all the while cursing Mr. Plow and his infernal machine.
While my daughter was visiting last Christmas the scene I mentioned above played out once more, like a bad version of the movie “Groundhog Day”. So I geared up, told my wife and my kids that I would be outside, hoping that someone (namely my kids) would take pity on me and help. My daughter took the bait and we were out there for half the time it normally takes me. Because she was out there I held my tongue and didn’t curse the plow, and all was well. We had dinner watched Christmas movies and went to bed.
In the morning we all gathered for breakfast. My daughter was noticeably missing so I went to her room to call her down. She was weepy, groggy and didn’t feel well so we tried asking her what she was feeling, but she could not say (She does not explain herself well.). All she could say was that she wanted to die, and that she felt horrible, and that she felt dead inside (drama, drama, drama). It took me a little while to realize that she was achy from the workout from the snow shoveling.
My daughter, an extremely active 16 year old cheerleader, who does Pilates and Yoga daily, is about 11 percent body fat, and fit as a fiddle, had been beaten down by a few clumps of soggy snowflakes. I gave her some Tylenol and kicked her out of bed and made her eat breakfast. She was fine after that. We all chided her for the rest of the day about the “I feel dead inside” quote. and had some laughs.
If this overweight, paunchy, high cholesterol havin’, balding old man can haul his butt out of bed in the morning after shoveling some snow the day before there is no way on this earth I’m going to feel sorry for someone less than half my age who can’t.
I love it: “I feel dead inside”. My daughter and yours could be twins. I can count on one hand the number of days that go by in a year where she doesn’t complain about some real or imagined malady from which she’s currently “dying”. Amazing how tough we old fogies are when it comes down to it, huh?
Tom´s last blog post..Mementos
I feel your pain. I live on a corner and swear that the plow dude gets perverse pleasure from planting that 2 ft. ice wall right where I just broke my back to clear it.
WeaselMomma´s last blog post..In The Kingdom Of Weaselville………
@Tom –
Got that right Tom. Our theme song should be that 1 hit wonder called “Tubthumping” by the Australian group Chumbawumba.
Tubthumping
@WeaselMomma –
As long as I’m not the only one feeling “my pain” (good choice of words there WeaselMomma).
I see you have the same plow guy as me!!!
I could have killed the plow driver that left a wall squarely across my freshly shoveled drive. And I would have if I could have lifted my arms. I can’t wait for the day my kids get old enough to shovel.
Ed (zoesdad)´s last blog post..At Least I Know Where I Stand
HA! These guys must all go to the same Snow Plow Driver school of Etiquette. My neighbors have chunks of bullnosed concrete edging piled up on their driveway and yard from where the plow got a little too close to their sidewalk.
I would not mind a little snow here in East Texas. It is supposed to reach the 70’s today!
That brings back memories. I grew up in the Northeast and DEFINITELY remember being the designated “shovel the driveway guy.”
Crow´s last blog post..Crow’s Quote of the Day
You won the snow round. Now you need to do a cheer off. I wonder who will be stiff and sore after that?
DadStuff´s last blog post..I’m Hunting Wabbits.
@DadStuff –
I’m game, as long as I get a turn being the one at the top of the pyramid.
I can hear it from the crowd now: “Oh the humanity”!(exerpt from the Hindenburg tragedy)
That’s one reason I don’t shovel the driveway anymore. If I’m feeling good, I’ll shovel the sidewalks.
Jared´s last blog post..The Ball Pit Experiment
The new big house next door installed a heated driveway so no shoveling for them all winter…. I’m jealous!
Chris Altesino´s last blog post..Comment on What Niches are you looking for??? by altesino
Honestly, I think you should proud of your teenage daughter for taking the hint and helping you shovel the snow. Of course, she would be sore the next day since shoveling snow uses different muscles than Yoga or Pilates or even cheerleading. I think maybe you should try cheering during the football game and doing all the same moves your daughter does during the game and see who is sore the next day.
I’m always proud of her!
If you look a few comments up. Dadstuff basically said the same thing. I concede.