Snow plowing season is here again, also known as “that magical time of year when your driveway becomes a frozen slip ‘n slide of doom.” You wake up at 6 a.m., open the door, and stare into a 4-foot wall of snow like it’s nature’s way of saying, “Not today, pal.” Armed with a shovel, three layers of regret, and questionable life choices, you begin scooping while your neighbor whizzes by in a snowplow the size of a small tank, waving cheerfully like Santa’s smug cousin.
Snow plow drivers, by the way, are a unique breed of winter superheroes. They appear at 3 a.m., blasting classic rock, drinking coffee strong enough to melt ice, and pushing snow like they’re parting the Red Sea. But just when you think they’ve saved the day—BOOM—they plow a fresh mountain of snow right at the end of your driveway like a frosty practical joke from Mother Nature. You just finished clearing it. You make eye contact with the driver. He nods. You cry internally.
Eventually, you give up, build a snow fort, and declare yourself the ruler of Driveway Kingdom. You send diplomatic snowballs to the neighbor kids, decree hot chocolate as the national beverage, and schedule daily sledding meetings. Sure, the snow plow will return, your mailbox might not survive, and you may never feel your toes again, but at least you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you tried… and failed spectacularly—with style.
