Bumper-to-bumper traffic on our seasonal road

Naturally, we were thrilled that Savannah was coming home for a visit from Connecticut. However, rather than leave early in the morning the next day, she elected to tackle the seven-hour drive as soon as she got out of work...right toward a Wyoming County travel advisory. "She's not going to get here until around 2 in the morning," my husband said as I glanced anxiously out our dark window, listening to ice pelt the glass, "We have to work tomorrow so we might as well go to bed.  Worrying won't get her here faster." So Syd stayed on sister duty, keeping Savannah company on the phone.

"I see the house," Savannah finally reported. Sydney hung up, expecting Savannah to walk in within minutes. Instead, a loud "bang" sound had her hurrying into her coat and boots to rush outside. "I just killed your car," Savannah's voice wailed through the darkness. As she backed up to park in front of Sydney's car, Savannah hit a slippery patch that did not welcome the application of brakes. Apparently the resulting bumper explosion rivaled a wineglass's reaction to an opera singer's well-placed pitch. Savannah's car? Not a scratch. Welcome home, Savannah.

The next day, on the drive to Grandma's house, Sydney quizzed her father about a home fix. We were all a bit surprised about her enthusiastic initiative in the area of car maintenance. "That banged-up bumper," she said, glancing at her sister, "could really cost me in regards to the re-sale value of my car." We sat quietly for a moment, considering her words, before breaking up into hysterical laughter. "Sydney," her father howled, wiping away tears, "forget about anyone paying you. You'll be lucky if you don't end up paying someone else to take your car away!"

In spite of his derision, Brad braved the chilly weather to address the bumper issue. We gathered up all the broken pieces and jig-sawed it all back together before an extension cord snaked out of the house to power a hair dryer that would defy the glue's bonding warning regarding ideal temperature settings. "Good as new," Brad finally declared while Sydney frowned skeptically. "So much for Blue Book value," she muttered, "Thanks to Savannah, it's now a red-tag special."