Last week I did my official “removal of the ice scraper from the car for the warm weather” ceremony. Yup, chucked that hunk of plastic right into the back of the coat closet. “No need for you any more this year!”
Last night as I wiped the three inches of snow off of my windshield with my coat sleeve and chiseled the ice away with my finger nails after getting out of work, I couldn’t help but think back on my twelve years of driving and how I always, without fail, regret putting the ice scraper away. No matter how late in the Grand Rapids year. I then drove home in blustery white-out conditions, deftly avoiding huge swaths of black ice as the salt trucks showered my car with chunks of salt.
Seriously…