At my prompting (I chose the parking spot), my brother got stuck in the snow on Monday night. But we didn't realize this until long after we'd parked (I was already in bed, which means it was at least 9:00) when he was trying to head over to my grandmother's, and wasn't able to move the van.
Oops.
I heard the sound of nothing being accomplished (you know the sound; wheels spinning, an engine roaring), bounded out of bed, threw some boots on, and went to go help him. Now, here's the best part: I had some version of the flu and wasn't feeling well, and he had some sort of cold/fever and was vaguely delirious, and rather weak.
So I told him to drive, I'd push. I wasn't ready to faint, at least. So, pushing and pulling, shoveling (with an honest-to-goodness garden-variety shovel) and shoving, we got out. I knew it was taking a long time, but it wasn't until my mom showed up (my brother and I had been the only ones in our family at home--everyone else was away being useful at my grandmother's) fearing for our lives, that we realized that almost an hour had passed as we had struggled to get the van out. My mom had tried to call me (believing me to be in bed and available to answer the phone) and getting no answer from me (any of the four times she called) and since my brother hadn't materialized, she decided it was high time to come home and see what ailed us. Ironically, I gave the van the last needed shove just as she came up the driveway to meet us, and we could have had my brother to my grandma's within 10 minutes.
As it was, we all went back in the house, cleaned up (my pajamas were totally covered in muck from the spinning tires, ew!) and went to bed. I'll say one thing for the experience--all that running around sure did put me into a deep sleep that night!
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