Snow Daze

Something happens to me whenever we get a heavy snowfall like the one we got on Super Bowl Sunday - I turn into a pajama-wearing, donut-eating, binge-watching slug. My husband, on the other hand, is none of those things. He's unfailingly up at the crack of dawn, tackling the driveway with his trusty shovel. (I have given up trying to entice him to bring our snowblower up from its cobweb-encrusted corner of the basement). While I'm ready for a nap under the nearest down comforter, he's jumping around like a little kid, invigorated by the single digit temperatures, challenged by the blustery winds that blow his carefully mounded snow piles back in his face, and grateful for the chance to get another frosty workout.

This particular storm, the fifth biggest snowfall in Chicago history, was no different. By the end of the afternoon, I was still parked on the couch appreciating yet another episode of Parenthood while he was putting the finishing touches on another massive snow fort (please keep in mind that our youngest child is twenty-six and our grandson is several months away from crawling before applauding his creative efforts). Every so often he attempted to pry me off the sofa with "enticing" offers of a trudge around the block or a snowball fight but I (and my rapidly expanding ass) remained steadfast. Look, I appreciate the frosty beauty of being dumped on by Mother Nature as much as the next guy but six decades of dealing with snowdrifts over my head and winds that whip through the heartiest long-underwear have tempered my enthusiasm. I will admit to a few pangs of guilt about not picking up a shovel and giving the poor guy a hand but after reminding myself of all the times I had to deal with that driveway on my own when he was off in sunny Singapore on business, I took another sip of hot chocolate and the feeling passed.

In the end, everybody got what they wanted. I ate an entire (small) can of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls while I watched Novak Djokovic dispatch Andy Murray for the Australian Open title and my hubby ended up with the cleanest driveway on the cul-de-sac and a snow fort that resembled Windsor Castle.

Once again, proof that marriage is a beautiful thing.