I can’t remember the last time that I slipped and fell on my keister while shoveling a driveway. Come to think of it the thing I miss most about winter in northern Utah were those beautiful mornings when you would have to force the front door open after being frozen shut the night before by gale force winds that chased the mercury into the depths of Hades for hiding. Once outside you realize the very beautiful two or three inches of fresh powder were maliciously obscuring a sheet of ice that was laid down the night before during the rain-sleet-hail-snow-blow-your-roof
off storm, this dawns on you as you begin sliding toward the concrete steps at a speed that can only end very poorly. The good news is that the fresh two or three inches of powder should cushion the blow from the rocks and or the concrete steps.
Once you have managed to stand up, after your ‘Bambi learning to ice skate’ impression, you extract as much snow from your underpants as possible while trying to preserve what is left of your shattered dignity. It’s a good thing you are wearing mittens so the neighbor kids don’t really know what you think of them laughing at you. As you walk, skate, hobble and slide to your car you are wondering if the window will shatter when you hit it at this velocity, then with luck, the breakaway mirror saves the day and absorbs the blow. You fumble around for your keys, drop your briefcase, and realize that you have lost a mitten. You open the car door and jump in just as the avalanche from the roof/door space crashes down your collar and will later create a belly button lint snowball that will amuse and entertain you for several minutes later in the day.
You wisely start your car, crank the defrost and exit the vehicle with a plastic Spork you have left over from yesterdays lunch at KFC. You futilely attempt to scrape the window of your car with the Spork. Inspired, you remember the Boy Scout motto “Be Prepared” and think to yourself “Self, you’re an Idiot!” While trying to remove the sandpaper ice sheet from the windshield your Spork snaps in half and you completely remove all of the skin from the knuckles of your mitten-less hand. After a random course of obscenities in a foreign language so as not to offend the neighbor kids, who have been enjoying the show, you decide to knock the powder off and let the defrost do it’s job. While skirting around the back of the car grasping on to anything that will support your bleeding, throbbing, partially frozen fingers, you athletically power slide around the back of the car, switch directions by grabbing the bumper and gracefully remember you forgot to remove the trailer hitch. After crawling out from under the car you manage to once again struggle to your feet, crawl to the drivers door, open it and sit down in the warmth of the car, suddenly sensing a cold wet lumpy feeling in your nether regions, it is then and only then that you remember the words of your grandfather, “Son, never try to dig anything out of your pants while wearing mittens!”
Maybe 'miss' is too strong of word!
Have a great day!