Housemate Chris bought a snowblower this past fall. It made him very excited, though he’s had little occasion to use it, what with all the rain we’ve had. (That’s what’s wrong with the kids these days – no sense of industry.)

This morning, however, he had all the snow he could possibly ask for. Thick, wet, heavy snow, with a crisp, icy base. w00t! He snowblowed (snowblew?) and shovelled, then he and Teresa cleaned off the cars to move them to finish the snowblowing… and he ripped one of my windshield wipers clean off my car. (The driver’s side wiper, natch.) His excuse was that there was a foot of snow on my car and that it was ice-glued to the windshield. Uh huh. That’s when you whack it with the ice scraper end of the snow brush to loosen it. I mean, let’s face it, he’s a six-and-a-half-foot-tall redheaded English-teaching poet, he’s not exactly The Hulk. What the hell did he do? (In his defence, the Motomaster winter Teflon wipers are shit and the adaptor snapped the first time Dad tried to install one, which is the same part that broke this time, but I’m not telling him that.)

Aaaaanyway, fortunately, when I headed out to run errands, it wasn’t snowing, and the water on the windshield, once I finished cleaning the car off, mostly beaded and ran off as I drove. And I wasn’t even the only person in the parking lot affixing a new wiper. Although Canadian Tire was cleaned out of those low-profile Reflex wipers that they’ve been pimping. (“Don’t start with meeee…” Heh.)

In any case, once I got home, I told Chris that next time I would beat him with the broken wiper. Because I am nurturing and understanding like that. (I’d have respected him more if Teresa hadn’t been the one to come into the house to show me the broken wiper and offer to glue-gun it back together to function long enough to get me to Canadian Tire. Sheesh.)

For the record, the current tally in the epic battle of Giuseppe vs. Chris is: Chris – 3, Giuseppe – 0. He has lost his copy of my car key, snapped the tie rod ends when he moved my car out of the driveway (they were gonna go at any time anyway, but it was funnier that they went when he was driving), and ripped the windshield wiper off. Now, he drives a Kia, so with one good kick I could wreak terrible revenge. But I’m not that kinda gal. 🙂

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