I clung to the door, but it was swinging wildly in and out, as car doors are prone to do. Meanwhile, I was reclining on a snowbank, up to my thighs in Jeep undercarriage. The only thing stopping me from an up close inspection of the exhaust system was multiple generous butt cheeks. Although I’ve suffered several highly comical pratfalls over the last few days, I’ve managed to avoid getting a concussion and ending up on the injured reserve list, barely.
My sister-in–law in Birmingham sent us a picture of their snowfall. Impressive for the South (a few big fat flakes, not much sticking), but since the schools were already closed for winter break, they decided to shut down THE CITY. Really people, How do you close a city? Snow here in Pennsylvania has been falling intermittently, but on a scale of 1” to words that would have gotten my mouth washed out with soap, we rank a depth of “It’s your turn to walk the dog.”
I moved to South Carolina to escape Mid-Atlantic winters, where the ground was frozen for so long, our friend couldn’t bury her dead cat. It was perched majestically on top of her trash can for weeks. Apparently, they weren’t able to scrape the frozen body off the cold metal. Aside from the need to postpone Last Rites until Spring, it wasn’t much worse than the ninth ring of Hell.
Now my husband, who is a Steelers fan, wants to drag me all around Pennsylvania while he searches for a Terrible Towel (motto: we look like a bunch of really dorky strippers, as we twirl our towels). Personally, I’d rather read a grammar textbook while wrestling crocodiles, than drive around in the snow looking for a glorified dust rag.
My husband also thinks he can drive in the snow better than me. He won’t even let me hold the car keys. Truth is, I can drive in the snow pretty well, I just can’t walk in it. As long as I have middle age butt cheeks, I’m not in much danger of breaking a hip, or inspecting the Jeep’s exhaust system. I also convinced my husband that I’m not joining him on his quest for a towel. It’s too cold to wrestle crocodiles.
See, There’s a bright side to everything…even a bubble butt.
Anything that helps insure the integrity of my skeletal system is welcome.
Yes, indeed, my generous back-side aided me in many ice-dumping occasions when we lived in BFE…….I mean rural Ohio. I could not walk on ice. I actually had bruises for most of the winters. I would even fall when I inched along the ice, shuffling my feet like a 90 year old. The snow is pretty though, and I did miss it a bit this year.
That dead cat thing made me cringe.
Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow… ah, how lovely!
We’ve been pretty lucky here this year, not much snow has fallen, but, that doesn’t mean we’re immune to the dreaded “black ice”…Many a time I have done the “black ice dance” for which I’m not proud of my form. You’d think after 43 years I’d have perfected it by now, but I haven’t.
Have no idea what a Terrible Towel is but had a good laugh at your predicament nonetheless!