Winter in New England or I Really, Really Need to Get To the Gym

February 6, 2015

My son was due at a game at 8, so we left at 7:30. The Parish where his team plays is only a mile away, but he wanted Gatorade and I wanted to take my time.

When I tried to pull out of the driveway, I got stuck in a snow drift. I gunned the engine. I spun the wheel. I tried to reverse. I spun the wheel. I snarled at Colin to get out of the car and “do something.”

He hopped out, ran to my side of the car, watched my wheel spin in mountain of ice and more ice, thru his hands up in the air.

I told him to get back in the car.

Well, I didn’t tell him anything. I think I honked, twice.

He got in, eyes looked straight forward. I gunned the engine, hit reverse, thru the car into drive and somehow, something somewhere gave. The car rocked forward, then shot back, straight into a snow bank six feet high.

I put my foot on the gas, and we lurched forward towards the gas station, toward the church, toward all the other mini vans shuttling their boys to the game on a night that really should have seen everyone home wearing flannel or footsie pajamas.

I said- “Colin, you gotta believe in me. I’m a complete bad ass!”

I had broken a wall of snow and ice. I had conquered my minivan and made it my b^&*ch.

“Mom, bad asses don’t tell people their bad asses.”

All of the sudden, there I was.- a suburban mom in a 2008 Dodge Caravan with an unfortunate predilection for listening to Eminem at the gym.

I dropped him off and wished him luck.

So maybe driving in the snow doesn’t make me tough.

But I got him to his game on time. And I didn’t bang my fists on the steering wheel, or curse New England in February or try to run over a squirrel.

So maybe I’m not a bad ass.

But this winter has made me fierce as hell.

Bring. It. On.

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