It’s called a shovel, people!

I walk my eight-year-old son the few blocks to his school each morning. Along our route, there are a total of three — yes, THREE — homes whose occupants cleared their sidewalks. The rest of the sidewalks remain a treacherous mess. We had about two feet of snow in the last week or so, and now the more-typical-for-here rain has started. It has reduced the two feet of snow to about six inches of hard-packed uneven ice/snow covered with six inches of slippery slush. My son and I have tried to make a game of it (who can get to school with the fewest sprained limbs?) (no, actually it was Arctic Explorer to him, and the sprained limb game to me), but it’s just getting bloody annoying. Not a pleasant way to start your day, you know? We’ve resorted to walking on the side of the road — which is actually more like the middle of the road, thanks to the piles left by the snowplows — but with the busy before-school traffic, this isn’t a great option. You shouldn’t have to risk life (or limb) to get to school. So, yeah, it’s called a shovel, people….

By the way, to those three home-owners who did shovel, you are angels. Cream of the crop. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

::stops ranting, takes deep breath, returns to laid-back status::