Dangers of Snow Removal

Still and yet, snow

Always, always, always, always, people are just gonna do what people are gonna do. This morning I was having my coffee, reading the newspaper online like I do every morning when a froggy voice called out from a bedroom down the hall.
"What time is it?" Bela had just climbed onto the bed with Cree.
"Seven, go back to sleep." He works evenings and doesn't get home until ten and then doesn't usually go to bed until around one.
"How much more snow did we get?"
"Not that much." This is a lie. I could barely dig out Bela's tie-out this morning because I couldn't find it, the snow was so deep, again.
"If that guy comes with the snow blower to do our sidewalk go out and stop him."
Now, I should explain something about one of Cree's major obsessive compulsions. No one, and I mean no one, is allowed to clear snow from our sidewalk but him. Once the neighbor came by with the snowblower doing the entire block and Cree took the shovel and threw snow back on our sidewalk so that he could then clear it off, all the while cursing. I combed my hair and washed my face, expecting the police to arrive any second. They never came.
"Sure honey, don't worry about it, you just go back to sleep."
About half an hour later, the far off whine of a snow blower could barely be detected. In an instant Cree was up and racing outside in what looked like a skintight black unitard (really just a combo of a black long sleeve Under Armor shirt and a black footy long underwear garment that defies all labeling if not broad description). He threw on boots and grabbed the shovel. He looked like a crazed snow elf, madly shoveling, but at least he wasn't cursing.
A few minutes later he was back in the house and crawling back in bed with the dog.
I called MK and told her about his dash to clear snow before the kind neighbor could get here with his blasted machine. She chuckled. I reminded her of the time years ago when one morning the church van showed up at the house to pick the boys up for vacation bible school (yes, I forced them to learn religion so that they would fully understand what they would reject oneday) and Cree wasn't dressed yet, so I told him to throw something on and tell the driver to wait a minute. He put on a cape, part of an old halloween costume get up, and went out in his underwear. So, this outfit was better than that outfit, as far as having more skin covered.
This is why that stupid Super Bowl ad with the pantless guys marching over the moors or wherever was pretty darn accurate, if still stupid.
Ah well, for the time being I'm just enjoying the quiet, while it lasts.