Yesterday I regaled you with a tale of our travails as we visited the whale tails, however I have been informed by my daughter Ruby that the version I told to you was woefully incomplete, and that I clearly left out the most important part of the story. And so, in an attempt to set right what I most definitely bungled yesterday, I present to you the story of what happened on the way to the whale tails.
It was a nice enough day; chilly, of course, because it was December, but sunny and clear. There had been an ice storm and the roads were plowed, but there was still ice everywhere and the driving was slow. Our car had been scraped off in a half-hearted attempt to fight back against winter and as we pulled out of the parking lot of our building we could see the icicles on the ledges just starting to collect drips of water at their tips.
About halfway to the whale tails we suddenly heard a sound that reminded us of the noise Zeus’ thunderbolt makes as he hurls it at you, and we felt a terrible rumble as the whole car shook. This was slightly alarming, and I leaned forward as I continued driving, trying to peer out through the foggy windshield to see what could have caused such a commotion. As I was scanning the road and sky in front of me, I caught a glimpse of what was happening behind me in my rearview mirror. A gigantic block of ice, previously glued to the roof of the car, was sliding down the back windshield and onto the road behind us with a terrific crack and crash.
Luckily there were no cars directly behind us, although the road was suddenly filled with big chunky blocks of ice that I’m sure were not the favorite of subsequent drivers. I had little time to contemplate this, however, because, as I stared behind me at the frozen debris, the other half of that icy block came sliding down the front windshield, almost completely obscuring my vision.
This ice was over an inch thick and the complete width of my car, and as it slid down in front of my eyes it cracked in half and settled down onto the windshield, resting its edge on my hood. Aha! I thought to myself. I know how to handle this situation! I promptly turned on my windshield wipers. Now, I know this will surprise you, but the wipers had little to no effect. They moved up and inch or so and then stuck there. Please remember that I was still driving during all of this, and now I began to worry about my lack of visibility and so decided that I ought to shake the ice off of my windshield by swerving all over the road. Oddly enough, this did not work either.
Ruby and Edward laughed hysterically as I frantically flicked my wipers and wrenched the steering wheel back and forth in an attempt to free the ice. I was told that I was driving like Bear, and that I should probably stop whatever it was I was doing. I wasn’t driving very fast, and there were no other cars on the road, lest any well-wishers or mother-in-laws be concerned about the safety of my children, and so by the time we pulled into the parking lot I had succeeded in doing nothing but amuse my children. This is a noble thing to do of course, and so I felt satisfied as I got out of the car and removed the ice with my gloved hands.
After that we went up to the whale tails, and you can read about that in yesterday’s post, but now you know the full story. I’m sorry I didn’t mention this other part earlier, but I have hopefully rectified this now to Ruby’s full satisfaction. And the moral of the story is: getting there is half the fun. And also: whatever you do in life, your children will be there to correct you.