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October 29, 2007

This morning was the first frost of the season. In a way it sounds romantic, but it isn’t at all. Especially at 6 am when in the cold dark morning when you go out and find your car covered in frost. Frost which must be scraped off with an ice scraper and there is no ice scraper to be found.

I do greatly appreciate that a few weeks ago my husband spent the afternoon cleaning and washing every nook and cranny in my car. Being that my commute is 60 miles one way, there is a lot of built up crud everywhere as well as … well, trash – to clean this mess was quite a chore to say the least. When you reach your hand down into the cubby on the door you never know what your hand will be covered with when it comes out: melted chocolate, months old soda remnants, or possibly even something still edible. However, I would have appreciated it much more if he had left my ice scraper in the car.

Now, I would let this go if this had not been the first time this has happened. This stealing of the ice scraper is sort of a running theme with my darling husband. I remember a morning last winter when I went to scrape my car and searched my car, the house and the garage looking for an ice scraper with no luck. My husband had already left and so I couldn’t check his car (which I found out later in the day contained all 3 of our ice scrapers) and was reduced to scraping and cleaning off my car with my gloved hands.

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