Snowmobilie

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Personal Narrative

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  • This is how it all started. Every November, my husband and my boys bond by going on a week long hunting trip to Black River Falls. This, of course, leaves me home alone with my daughter. “Yay!” I always eagerly waited for my annual week of freedom to begin.
  • My husband refuses to let me operate anything with a motor. This, of course, means I can not use the snowblower. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” I thought to myself. “How often does it snow in November, anyway?” However, in this particular November we had an early season blizzard, and with it came huge snow drifts in front of my garage door.
  • OOPS!!!!
  • Being the thoughtful person I am, my first mistake was deciding not to bother my brother, who had volunteered to plow my driveway for me, but instead, to just muscle my car through the snow drifts so I could get to work on time. I opened the garage door, stepped on the gas, and rammed right through the first drift straight into the second drift. There I was stuck. I gave myself a pep talk, “No big deal. I’ve got this.”
  • This was my second mistake. I remembered learning in a science class that I needed friction to get my tires to stop spinning and to move forward. Because I had no sand to put under the tire, I used the next best thing - cat litter. Because I had no fresh cat litter, I used the next best thing, or maybe worst thing, used cat litter. That’s right. I dumped the entire litter box right in front of my tire. You should have seen that litter fly as my tire spun round and round, but did not take grip in the snow.
  • “At least I am inside the car working the gas pedal, not outside behind the tire where my daughter is dodging frozen cat nuggets!” I laughed to myself. My daughter, however, was not finding the situation amusing. In fact, at this point her eyes were shooting daggers at me through the frosty rear window of the car.
  • My final mistake was perhaps the worst one. The next method I tried to free my car was to shovel the snow away from around the tire. I shoveled, and shoveled, and shoveled. All of a sudden I heard a weird hissing noise. Dang. I had punctured my tire with the shovel. Now, not only was my car stuck for that morning, it was stuck permanently until the tire could be fixed. I guess the whole situation could have have avoided had I been less stubborn and listened to his advice to begin with.
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