This morning the phone rang at 6:30. Not exactly early for me but who calls at that time, anyway?It was my son. The conversation went like this.
"Hello"
My son said, "Mother, I just drove by your house and was going to shovel for you but it was all done."
"I did it at 3 this morning. I like to get it shoveled for the kids when they walk to school."
"You've got to stop that. You're not a spring chicken anymore, you know."
"I know. But thanks for coming by. I appreciate your offer. I forgot to get gas for the blower so I shoveled by hand."
"Oh god, stop that."
End of conversation
I'm trying to analyse that "spring chicken remark. I used to raise chickens at the ranch and I got baby chicks in the spring. Teeny, fluffy little baby chicks. They sure couldn't shovel snow. If you equate chicken life to human life, they couldn't shovel snow until they were old and seasoned. So, according to that, who is the better able to shovel snow? Me, that's who.
I'm just being a smart ass, because isn't it like finger-nails on a black board when someone tells you you're not a "spring chicken?" (even though they're right!!!!!)
It was sweet of son to come by to shovel. He's such a great person and I'm not ungrateful.
Although the sun is shining brightly today, it's a big fat deceiver. Try out -3. A good day to stay in and try to catch up on blog reading. Tonight it's headed for -15. Wanna live in Montana?
Would you like the name "no spring chicken?" (Get over it, Manzi :))
P. S. Just got weather update.... tonight -21..ouch.
