At 5:15 pm I heard it. That diesel motor, the vibration under foot, yellow lights flashing, county emblem emblazoned on the side. Yes, friends, it was a snow plow sighting in the neighborhood. Oh, what relief! Freedom was finally on the horizon! Yee haw! I rushed outside and met the neighbors, waving shovels and cheering as the truck headed down the street.
So when the plow dumped a bunch of sand and backed out of the community we were baffled. What? No plowing? Our collective excitement deflated faster than the Hindenburg. Huh? What happened? Why would the plow tease us like that? Turns out that the plow arm on the front was broken (too much snow?) and the driver said he "might be back tomorrow."
Might? Be. Back. Tomorrow? Puh-leeze quit the tease and just plow. Pretty please. With whipped cream on top?
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