Dude. I just almost slid right past the driveway of Colin's school. Sometimes I hate snow. Unfortunately, I live in Iowa, and we get a lot of it.
I was a fan of snow a.) before I had to drop my kid off at school in it, and b.) before my 4-wheel-drive Jeep crapped out. But now? Notsomuch.
What's laughable is that we live on a bus route, which is supposedly the first route cleared by the city snow removal crew. (What's even MORE laughable is that we live on a bus route, where multiple buses drive by multiple times a day, and they still won't pick my son up.) Anyway, I'm pretty sure that if the snow-clearing trucks went by this morning, they hadn't had their coffee yet and forgot to put the scraper-blade-thingies down. Because the roads really sucked. And sucky snowy roads suck worse in a slidey, low-to-the-ground Buick.
Like I said, when I went to turn in to Colin's school, I hit the brakes and kept ... on ... going. I slid past the regular turning point and thought I was going to have to actually back up in the road, but I just turned in anyway and prayed I wouldn't hit the curb in the process (I avoided it, but just barely).
Usually when I drop him off, I pull up at the curb, he gets out and walks up the sidewalk. It's easier to park further away because all the other parents are crowding up to drop their kids off right at the door, and I know it's not going to kill Colin to walk a few extra steps. But this morning, everything is snow-covered. And everybody knows that when you drop a five-year-old off in a snowy landscape, and tell him to go right to the sidewalk and straight into the school do not stop do not pick up any snow do not get your jeans wet whatsoever do you understand me? ... well, that's probably an unrealistic expectation. At least it would be for my son, who is the consummate dawdler even without snow to play in.
So I had the brilliant idea to not actually park, but instead pull up as close as I could to the door and just let him out quickly. I see parents do it all the time. Unfortunately, those are parents whose kids just get out and go.
But not my boy.
Colin struggled with the door handle. His foot got caught in his backpack. He finally made it out of the car, but acted like the door was so heavy he couldn't push it closed (even though he closes it with no problem every other time). At this point, cars are building up behind me, and I feel like a real asshole for being "parked" in the way. And then I feel like an even bigger asshole because I'm frantically gesturing for my kid to just get on the damn sidewalk for eff's sake, as he's standing in the midst of the morning gridlock, trying to form his fingers into the sign for "I love you."
This is a process which sometimes takes a considerable amount of time. And what you've got to understand about Colin is that he isn't the type to just try it a couple times and then laugh it off. Ohhhh no. He's got to do it right, and in this case, I knew he'd take ten minutes if he had to. So I just kept emphatically pointing and mouthing, "Get on the sidewalk!" as he painstakingly bent his fingers into the right positions.
I could just feel the scornful eyes upon me, and imagined that people were all like, "OMG. What does she think she's doing, blocking traffic and then dropping her kid off to stand in the middle of the driveway? And she's wearing her pajamas and a pair of boots. I bet her house is filthy."
Okay, so maybe I overdramatize. But still.
Colin finally, mercifully, got his "I love you" sign right and got out of the way. Red-faced, I blew him a kiss, and tried to avoid looking at anybody as I maneuvered out of the parking lot. Ugh.
I'll tell you this much: that blew. And I'm not looking forward to picking him up this afternoon, when we will have gotten the remainder of the forecasted snow (about two more inches). But you know what? It's either that or hear Colin and Cameron bicker incessantly for an extra eight hours.
So yeah, I guess I'm glad we don't get many snow days after all.
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