Why did I shovel my drive way at 4:30a, filled with the
fear of pissing off my neighbors as the dull blade scraped across rough
concrete breaking the silence of early morning, you ask?
I mean I certainly didn’t need to. What appears to be a
little more than two inches is definitely no match for either of our cars, and
the driveway isn’t really steep enough to cause any issues with getting up it. In addition, Amanda’s school called off and I can work from home, so
we really don’t need to leave the house today. And it’s Missouri. We’ll heat up
above 32 this week, and it will all be melted by Friday. So, why, indeed?
Well, there are actually a few reasons.
First, the kids were getting dropped off in the morning,
and I didn’t want them to have to walk through the snow to get into the house.
That may sound pretty caring, like I am concerned for the warmth of their
little tootsies, but I can assure you it is less altruistic than that. Have you
seen a 5 year old and an 8 year old walk in the snow? It’s never just walking.
As soon as the first snow boot hits the fluffy white flakes of good-times and
magic, the bitter dichotomy of ecstasy and pain would descend upon that moment
like Dionysus showing up to a party on a three day wine bender. It would only be a matter
of time before someone would end up with icy tears and a face full of snow.
Hell, even with the shoveled drive way that happened, but at least they didn’t
track it through our clean house.
More importantly, it is the example I am trying to set
for the kids. I want them to understand life, want them to realize life isn’t
all snowball fights and snow-angels. I want them to know that their step-dad
believes in hardwork, and, through my example, I am hoping they adopt the same
philosophy. Not now, not when they are teenagers, necessarily, but when they
are on their own trying to figure it all out. I want them to think back to
these moments and allow them to be their guide. I want them to take pride in
their property, as they have seen me and their mom showing our pride by keeping
the house clean, the lawn mowed (okay, I have a lawn dude, but still…I work
hard to pay him J),
the and driveway shoveled. I want them to know that there was an easier way, a
lazy way, to deal with this little snow storm, but I chose to deal with it by
putting forth a little effort; I chose to deal with it the right way. And they
need that. They need those examples because the car they were dropped off in
was still covered and looked like Hailey’s Comet as it sped away.
Lastly, I would be lying if I didn’t say I find it
somewhat cathartic, despite the fear of waking the neighbors. The silence of
early morning. The snow glistening under a tired streetlamp. The cold air
making nose run and cheeks rosy. The rhythm of the scrape and step. The sense
of accomplishment as something that was once covered in snow is now clean.
