It'll make for a good story, I think, that Emeline helped push my car from where it helplessly spun in the Wash Tub parking lot, shoveled off the driveway entrance with me (the Tub should give us free laundry for doing them such a service, I feel), directed my reverse driving, found a parking spot in an apartment lot across the street, and followed me there in her pajama pants.
Our hands are numb inside of our gloves and our skin screams from our faces in the wind, but I do have ice cream for her.
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