Michael and I shoveled and shoveled. And shoveled some more.
We have a very unfortunate driveway.
It slopes steeply down from the road towards our house.
As if our little dwarfish house were built inside a hole.
Even if there's just a small bit of snow or ice, we have to shovel
or we can't get out of the drive.
On the other hand, this steeply sloping drive makes a nice sledding hill
for 3-year-olds like Noah, and chickens like me.
And even though we received a ton more (about a foot)
of the white stuff by Friday morn,
Michael's classes were not canceled.
So, at 7am Michael and I descended upon our drive
like heavy-duty snow-removing professionals.
I really have mastered a certain technique.
Rhythm is everything. Well, rhythm, warm gloves and boots.
Anyways, we managed to dig his car out
in the nick of time so that he could stand before
a bunch of surly students
(who were also disappointed that they weren't enjoying a snow day)
and lecture on Dante's Inferno. Snowy day in Hell?
Meanwhile, Noah and I have been playing a new game
called "Pretend Sleep".
For "Pretend Sleep," Noah gets to pretend he's the parent
tucking me- the child- into bed.
This is a pretty good deal for me since I get to lay around
and pretend to sleep and be generally lazy.
But lately, Noah has been pretending to be a mean parent.
On Friday he told me,
"Hush your little mouth, close your little eyes, and cover up your teeny tiny head! Go to sleep, mama!"
I can assure you, he did not learn that kind of parenting from me.