Here is Stinky in the snow next to the weird pod vine thing that has sort of become our mascot.
So, it snowed here. I'm sure a lot of you got it too. As I've already told you, I walk to work and back, but I still had to drive on the unplowed roads to get Stinky from basketball practice and one of her friends needed a ride too. Her friend's mom lives about three blocks from us, but her dad lives on the other side of the highway, and of course she was at her dad's house tonight. Here's what I don't get about some people's parents: If the driving conditions are bad, and your kid gets out of practice at 5:30, shouldn't you be going to pick her up instead of driving to Coralville for whatever reason? What would they have done if I hadn't agreed to take her? Let her sit in the junior high parking lot for a half hour in the snow and cold? After almost getting slid into by a car going too fast on the highway, I vowed that next time, I'd just drop the girl off at her mom's house, and make it her dad's responsibility to get her. I love the kid, she's sweet and polite and funny, but I get annoyed with her parents, as it's not the first time this has happened.
Worry not. My evening improved one hundred percent from my stressful drive around town. I made pasta and garlic bread for dinner and then I got to shovel the sidewalk. No one ever believes me, but I love to shovel snow. I know, I'm a freak. I also like to mow the lawn and wash my car if I can do it in my driveway with a bucket and some ripped up towels (even though I've been told this is against city rules and regulations). The reason for all this freakery, is because I love being outside, it makes me happy to do hard physical labor and it instantly looks better... And you know how fond I am of instant gratification.
Stinky did many chores in order to pay for the festive, silvery slippers I bought her last Friday. She vacuumed, cleaned her room, took out the trash and swept and mopped the floor, all while I lounged around my bedroom watching Flags of Our Fathers. Did I feel a little like the wicked step-mother? No, not really. My girls never seem to feel bad when I'm cleaning and they're on the computer or watching a movie either, so I guess we're even.