Yesterday, it snowed. Then it hailed. Then it rained. The roads were a slushy, slippery mess and even my super-powered space heater could not warm my bones.
I think my teeth chattered all afternoon.
As fate would have it, on one of the only snowy days this winter, I had to work. The very thought of driving under such weather conditions gave me agita. My driving skills leave little to be desired on a good day, let alone with a layer of slippery slush between my tires and the road.
There are two men in my life that know me better than I know myself. These lucky men are Hubby and my Dad. They answer every time I call and they they listen to all my crazy.
Love them to bits.
After voicing my concern about getting to work last night, my Dad told me he would drive me and pick me up. I told him I would take myself. I could handle it.
He told me again he would take me, he didn't mind. I told him that's nutty, and out of his way.
After I dressed in my blue shirt and black pants, and touched up my makeup, Hubby told me he would drive me to work in the truck. I assured him I would be fine driving. He assured me I wouldn't be and insisted he drop me off.
And so he did. We were barely out of the drive and I was beyond relieved I was not steering that wheel.
Later that night my Dad, cozy in front of the television at 10:00pm, walked out to his Jeep in the bitter damp cold, and picked me up.
And then he drove fifteen minutes past his house to take me home. And waited in my drive until he saw I was safe inside.
And then he drove fifteen minutes back to his house and his television set.
My family is my rock. My home base. And they are just about the only ones who will cart my ass back and forth to work because I'm too afraid to drive in snow.