Now, I've heard of Better than Sex Cake, Better than Sex Chocolates...

I've even heard of Better than Sex Girls' Night with a pint of Moose Tracks Ice Cream and a Golden Girls Marathon...but it wasn't until today that I stumbled upon what had to be a Better than Sex Ice Scraper.

It snowed here today. I know this might come as a shock to some of you...I mean, snow, in February, and in Wisconsin, no less...it practically has "falsehood" stamped all over it, but I lie to thee not. I drove Brenda's car today, a comely Pontiac she's christened "Honky"...because:

1. It's a car. It honks
2. It's white.

I made the executive decision not to drive Ernie—that's my car, and I won't bore you with why he is named Ernie, perhaps enacting you to ask why in comments, but either way this tangent is already way too long and distracting and it's time to get back on task so quit nagging me for details until I've finished with my current train of thought...is that really so much to ask? JEEZ—today, as I am still waiting for parts to patch a mysterious boo-boo and I have one headlight that isn't so very illuminating. I thought dual functioning headlights to be the way to go in this altogether unexpected day (I mean, seriously! How often are meteorologists actually RIGHT!) of wintry bluster.

So, Nen's car it was. This idea had several pluses above having a second headlight, pluses including and possibly restricted to its reservation in the garage. Mmmm...garages. Anyway...

Poor little Honky was all but lost in the dizzying whitewash of storm! As I was digging him from the parking lot, thigh-deep in drifts, and cursing the one day I forgot to bring a pair of gloves in this weird winter that saw a mid-fifties day on Tuesday, I applied Brenda's ice scraper to the windshield.

I made special note of her ice scraper this morning. I wanted to make sure she had one. She acquired the car less than 2 weeks ago, and who knew if it was Wisconsinized enough for a freak-February snowfall? "Looks sorta pitiful," I mumbled to myself, but at least it was something.

But it was more than just something...it was everything. In that moment, it was my everything. It warmed in my grip as though it held a heat. I touched the windshield meekly, transiently even, and a flower bloomed, a fountain overflowed, and an angel sang...I blinked and the glass was clear. I blinked and my chore was over. I blinked and looked to the tool in my hand...I blinked and knew I would have one of my very own. I'm still tingly about it...

(or maybe that's my hand thawing.)