I don't like driving in the ice and snow. Actually, don't like is such a pale word to describe how terrified I am when faced with driving and snow and/or ice.
This phobia is well known in my family. And as the only one in my family who fears snow and ice, I am roundly made fun of every time there are one or two flakes lazily floating down to the earth.
So on Monday I was less than thrilled with the weather. We waited until the sun came up and then scraped off the car.
Here is a text between Mary and I:
Me: The government is delayed for 2 hours. We are figuring out if dad is going to drive himself to the metro or not.
Me: Are you going in late?
Mary: Getting ready now. Lance is de-icing my car.
Me: Oh did I say that I was taking dad to the metro? By that I mean that dad is driving to the metro and I am in the passenger seat in a fetal position hiding my face and crying because i have to drive home.
Yep. No respect.