A little nugget of wisdom, "Marry a man who washes your windshield."
As a kid growing up in snow country, it goes without saying, I dealt with more snow than I care to remember. It wasn't inches it was FEET of snow recorded each year. This meant my childhood is remanent memories of glops of slush, frozen doors, ice scraping, and shoveling driveways. But the one bit of advice I've kept with me all these years--which appropriately came from my mother-- was, "When you find a man to marry, make sure he does one thing. Washes your windshield without being asked." This she says as she points to my father, diligently scrubbing the front windshield in 20 degree below zero weather, squeegeeing the slushsicles from the sides of the windows to perfection.
At 8 years old, I thought this little task was equivalent to taking out the garbage. Or maybe mowing the lawn. I didn't see the significance. Or why it would be considered an important trait of a future soul mate. Nor did I poll boyfriends about the windshield washing experience. In fact, I did little to adhere to this advice until well into my current relationship--the man, I did in the end, marry.
We were early in our relationship still. In college. Partying. Enjoying binge drinking and all things called studying, talking, playing, and non-committal. At least until winter hit. And when you live in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan--in the heart of the snow in the Copper Country--winter hits hard. Very hard. The close to 400 inches of snow was just the beginning... frigid temperatures did the rest. Especially when traveling hung-over and post snow storm to the latest family event an hour away.
Of course, you know how this story will go don't you? We were low on gas, the boyfriend that is now my husband so graciously offered to fill the gas tank. And with his hands surely frostbitten and red, squeegeed the windshield, back window, all four side windows AND the headlights in the dead 20 below windchilled weather. And with a purple-lipped grin, climbed into the car, pecked me on the cheek, and said, "I gotta do something while I waiting for the pump."
In that moment I knew a guy that would freeze his ass off while waiting for the pump to fill the gas tank (instead jumping back INTO the warmth of the car while waiting the few minutes), was worth marriage. And one suitable to meet the extended family.
At 8 years old, I thought this little task was equivalent to taking out the garbage. Or maybe mowing the lawn. I didn't see the significance. Or why it would be considered an important trait of a future soul mate. Nor did I poll boyfriends about the windshield washing experience. In fact, I did little to adhere to this advice until well into my current relationship--the man, I did in the end, marry.
We were early in our relationship still. In college. Partying. Enjoying binge drinking and all things called studying, talking, playing, and non-committal. At least until winter hit. And when you live in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan--in the heart of the snow in the Copper Country--winter hits hard. Very hard. The close to 400 inches of snow was just the beginning... frigid temperatures did the rest. Especially when traveling hung-over and post snow storm to the latest family event an hour away.
Of course, you know how this story will go don't you? We were low on gas, the boyfriend that is now my husband so graciously offered to fill the gas tank. And with his hands surely frostbitten and red, squeegeed the windshield, back window, all four side windows AND the headlights in the dead 20 below windchilled weather. And with a purple-lipped grin, climbed into the car, pecked me on the cheek, and said, "I gotta do something while I waiting for the pump."
In that moment I knew a guy that would freeze his ass off while waiting for the pump to fill the gas tank (instead jumping back INTO the warmth of the car while waiting the few minutes), was worth marriage. And one suitable to meet the extended family.
