The Socks Lie!

Sugar Daddy, the caramel lollipop in the colorful wrapper

WHERE’S MY SUGAR DADDY? No. Scratch that! WHERE’S MY SHOVEL DADDY? I just finished shoveling an inch or two of snow off our steep driveway for the second time in two days. Should I be complaining? Probably not. I live in the upper Midwest. You’d think I’d be used to this stuff. While I feel great sympathy for those in the southeast and the east coast, this is what we deal with all winter long. I’m tired of it. I want a Shovel Daddy, someone who will come to my rescue after it snows with a two stage snow blower, every time I need to go out and my hubs is at work. Where are all the teenagers eager to earn a buck or two for an hour’s work? I can pay more than McDonald’s and I promise I won’t ask for fries with that. I don’t mind the actual shoveling. It’s the seemingly mandatory backache that comes with it that makes me want to get into a snowball fight with a Yeti. I’d vent my anger and pain and put that sucker down faster than Frosty would melt in a microwave. Yeah, I’m over it. Winter can go on its merry way now. I’d at least like to be able to find a few of my outdoor Christmas ornaments that got buried under the white stuff at the start of the new year. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. I’m not feeling it. “Sweet Like Candy?” My socks lie! (I’ll feel better in the morning.)