You woodn't believe my morning: It was snow laughing matter!

 Not going to lie:  The past few days...weather-wise...have not been that great. I'm not surprised...I do live in Western New York, after all...rather, I am glumly resigned to my frigid fate. But...come on, y'all! TWENTY BELOW?!?!?!?

Brad had headed out the door for work, my truck keys in hand while I remained, curled around my coffee, in complete denial. I outright ignored the reality before me, flipping through Facebook and scooching closer to the pellet stove. But a glance at the clock told me it was time so, singing a little song, I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth when a scene out the frosted-up window caught my eye. There, in the frozen Arctic that was my backyard, was Brad Mosiman, battling a rebellious battery as my truck staunchly put the brakes on and said, "No WAY am I going out in this!" 

I dove for my boots and coat to get out there...shamed by my utter unawareness as my husband, wielding the jumper cables like a Ringmaster's whip, humbled my tiger-of-a-truck into submission, bundled me into the cab, and sent us on our way.

Rattled but resolute, I drove along...radio blasting to ease my troubled heart, drown my sorrows, and console me from my accusatory conscience. My attention suddenly veered from my ass being in the sand (Thank you, Zac Brown Band) to my heart being in my throat as my front tire clipped a Sequoia-sized wooden post laying in the middle of the road. I held my breath to see if there were any immediate consequences and, when Titan didn't explode (side benefit:  I would have been warm), I carefully continued on my journey to pick up Katriel, wracked with worry. What if someone else, lacking my quick thinking and driving dexterity, hit the wood? What if Erin...transporting two of my favorite people in the world, struck it? What if a bus hit it? 

I was a mess by the time I pulled into Katriel's driveway.

"We have to go back," I gasped as she swung up into Titan's cab. By this time, Katriel is well-versed in my many phases of hysterics. "It's before the big curve," I told her as she sat on the edge of her seat as my scout. "Maybe somebody moved it," I said hopefully as we drove slowly, scanning the ice-and-snow covered surface. "I see it!" she shouted...and then surprised me by yelling in delight, "I want it!" My time-wasting chore had just transformed into a treasure hunt as Katriel leaped from my truck and wrestled a piece of lumber bigger than her into Titan. My life-saving mission would go on to become part of Katriel's creative craft-show inventory.

My story was over...or so I thought.

I would arrive to school safely only to discover a text message from Erin, warning me about the hazardous debris on Hardys Road. Sweet. Right? Considerate. Seemingly. However, rather than focus on her thoughtful intent, I instead became immediately flabbergasted by her convoluted communication. "I believe there is a big piece of wood in the middle of the road on Hardys so please be careful driving." 

Let's break this down folks.

Number One:  WRONG ROAD.

Number Two:  ON THE ROAD? It's a four-mile stretch! Give me a landmark! A fraction! Or...better yet:

Number Three:  Pull your car over and MOVE the object of my possible demise!

Naturally, this situation blew up dramatically at work. Our friend, Al, immediately took my side after reading her misleading message. Michelle, on the other hand (who had received a similar dire warning and, with her warm heart and gracious nature, appreciated the kind gesture), needed more time to be swayed to my indignant way of thinking.

Fortunately, all well that ends well. If we were to rank all the morning participants in order according to level of heroism, selflessness, personal sacrifice, kindness, and thoughtfulness, I think we can all agree that Brad Mosiman comes in at a strong first place. Second place is easily awarded to Katriel who, happily, was rewarded by fate for her actions. If you are squinting in her binoculars for Erin and me, give us a second, we'll be arriving at the home stretch as we battle it out for third. I certainly got off to a rocky start, oblivious to Brad's outdoor struggle of man-versus-machine-versus-twenty-below-temperatures (in the pitch dark) as I sipped my hot beverage by a toasty stove singing a little song. I don't look particularly heroic as I failed to stop and remove a dangerous impediment from an already perilous path. But...I went back and, like a superhero, made Katriel move the cumbersome clog from our rural artery. And Erin...blasted by it like a boss and then tossed out misinformation about its location like she was deliberately trying TO KILL ME! Gasp! Yeah. Not as sweet as she seems.

If any of this seems remotely familiar it's because it is. Katriel is well-versed in retrieving things from vehicles and Erin is equally adept at alerting me about objects in the road.

Philosophically-thinking, it all ties together. The battery represents Erin and me. A negative and positive charge are both necessary to keep things running. And when that battery gets drained and the lights grow dim...that's when the true heroes shine...the calm, quiet, capable people in our lives who wrestle obstacles out of our way or transfer some of their energy to our deleted supply...selflessly getting us up and going again.

Thank you, Brad Mosiman.

Thank you, Katriel.

And, yeah. Thank you, Erin (I guess).