The Sixty-Seventh Day of Winter

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In amidst planning for our trip to California, my dedication to checking the weather slipped. Somehow I got completely surprised by the snow today. I finally extricated myself from the house and kids long enough to take the trash to the dumpster and stepped out with flip-flops and without jacket to real snow fall. But it's been one of those days that I dared not go back inside for better clothing choices. It was a now or never moment.

And then there was the small detail about the meeting I needed to get to. SOS had class, and so for the first time since moving, I'd secured a real babysitter. Otherwise I would have chickened out or turned around at any of the multiple points in my drive where I thought "I'm going to crash. I'm going to crash. I'm going to crash."

The snow came down fast enough that the normally-cleared roads weren't. I crept along at snail speeds, and even so did more sliding than I was prepared for. Maybe it was a mercy that the only other person in the car with me is preverbal. Less backseat driving that way.

When I got home, I warned the babysitter that the roads were still not cleared.

"Oh, that's nothing. I'm used to this."

Oh.

In a desperate attempt to ego-boost, I remind myself that I know how to drive in L.A. traffic.

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