2.08.2008

Dear Mr. Plow Truck Driver


Thank you for your service. Your ability to make sure that our roads are free of snow and ice is outstanding. Your skill in making sure that the 8 foot plow that precariously hangs off to the side of your truck and doesn't render my mailbox to splinters is remarkable. Also your attention to detail in making certain that you plow by my house at least once an hour has got to be above and beyond the call of the town of Strong plower duty. But please, next time you drive by try not to look so happy as you fill in the end of my driveway once again with all the goodness that fourth day of snow brings. You see, as you drive by and I am out shoveling again, with my two year old, terrible thoughts and words come to mind that a lady should never think or say. I have to withhold the feeling of flipping you "the bird" and throwing snowballs at your windshield, because I am a good person and a mother. I have a desire to go to your home and shovel a mound of snow at the end of your driveway 3 or 4 times a day but I lack the energy to do that because I am shoveling out my own mound. So please skip the cordial wave and nod when you see me. Its nothing personal, I know its your job. Im just tired of shoveling.
Thanks again,
Leah

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

i'm still laughing!!

i say you flip him the bird. micah is much more reserved and would suggest sticking out your tongue at him instead. you do as you please.

Sim said...

I vote for the "bird" but please do so with a smile and a nod....

Juanita said...

Leah,
Tara sent me here to read your snowplow story and I bet he's the same freakin' guy who clipped my mail box off the pole. You tell me where his house is and I'll dump the snow at the end of his driveway.

I laughed so hard I had tears coming out of my eyes... Thanks for the ab workout!

Ponder this....

You're alive. Do something. The directive in life, the moral imperative was so uncomplicated. It could be expressed in single words, not complete sentences. It sounded like this: Look. Listen. Choose. Act. 
 Barbara Hall, A Summons to New Orleans, 2000