Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Last winter...

John walks up to me in the living room and says, “I have the car started in the driveway.” I say “Okay” and walk off. He comes into the bathroom while I am in the shower and says, “I have the car started in the driveway.” I say “Okay” and he leaves. I’m in the bedroom getting ready for work and he looks in the door and says, “I have the car started in the driveway”. At this point I say, “Well why don't you go out there and drive it?”

He asks me who is going to steer while he pushes and I look at him like he’s nuts. Then he says, “I have the car stuck in the driveway and I need to get it out.”

Now it makes sense. I told him that I couldn’t figure out why he kept following me around telling me that the car was started in the driveway when the whole time he was telling me it was stuck. I was thinking, well he does that every day. Does he want me to congratulate him? Why is starting the car this morning such a big deal?

We go out into the driveway and they push while I steer. It became clear to me that my husband from Buffalo, NY doesn’t realize that if the car sits there and spins its wheels it will slick the snow up and traction is gone. I go into the house and get some of my daughter’s old jeans to jam up under the front tire for traction. (In doing this I manage to get into snow up to my hip and have to be pulled out). They push, I hit the gas and the car comes out. I stop. John is yelling asking why I stopped but I’m not really sure. They push, I hit the gas, the car moves and John falls face down in the driveway. Oh yes, I laughed.

I said to John, “Those jeans under the tire were a good idea, huh?” He agreed. I told him that I come from a long line of “Hey, let’s stick that under there!”

We would stick anything under a tire to get a vehicle out of the mud and I mean anything. We’d get a car stuck and people would hide their children.

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