Living In A Snow Globe

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My moron son was heading to work at noon on Saturday. 

“Where’s your coat?” I asked as he got into the car.

“Don’t need one,” he said. “They have heat.”

“Dude, the forecast is horrible. What if you can’t make it home and have to walk somewhere?”

“I’ll figure it out. What’s gonna’ happen?”

We were hit with a travel ban by the time his shift was supposed to end.

“What’s he doing?” I asked. “He can’t get home.”

“He’s working a double. Not sure after that.”

I went to bed. Woke to a text that read:

“Sam is in a room at the Hyatt.”

Perfect. No angst. We could safely scoop him up on Monday.

Except…the brain that he and my wife seem to share was here.

“He wants to come home,” Kathy said. “Check out is at 11:00.”

“He can’t! He’s safe in a room. We’re living in a snow globe here!”

I couldn’t see out any window of my home. 

Pure white.

I tried to call him and talk sense into him. 

No answer.

“He’s in an Uber,” Kathy announced.

“Uber? It’s illegal to drive!”

As it turned out, the Uber driver was willing to roll the dice. 

As was my dopey son.

I worked on the sauce, did some laundry, tried not to imagine the car ride…

…half an hour later, Sam came bouncing into the house.

“Holy Snikeeeees!” He yelled.

I handed over some money to run out to the driver who was trying to find his windshield wipers.

“That was crazy,” Sam said, as he brushed by me

“Moron.”

Ahhhh, Buffalo!

Snow and wind and white-outs and one dopey kid…

…and a pretty talented Uber driver.

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