You can take a girl out of Texas...

It snowed last night. Not too terribly much, but enough to cover the ground and to need to scrape off of the car before I could drive anywhere. And yes, I've been here for five years and I still get completely pumped when the fluffy white stuff falls.

Saturdays are always my days to get up super early, get to the gym, do all of my grocery shopping, and bring home breakfast and coffee, all by 10am. It's my "me time" and I look forward to it all week long. This morning was the same routine-- I was dressed and starting the car by 7:15, sweeping the snow off and letting it run to warm up.

When I started to back out of the parking space and turned the steering wheel, this awful grinding/crunching sound was so loud. Considering Brian bought his brand new car in September, every horror story in the book raced through my head. I tried pulling in and backing up three or four times and I kept hearing the same sound so I headed back inside to wake Brian up from a dead sleep to come and listen.

Trooper that he is, he stood in front of the car while I yelled out of the window "Can you hear it?!" I could see that he was trying not to smile so immediately felt a little better. By the time he climbed into the passenger seat he was full-on laughing.

"You know how it snowed last night? Like now there's snow under the tires?"
"Yes..."
"You know how snow crunches under your shoes when you walk on it?"
"... Yes?..."
"The car isn't broken. That sound is the car driving over the snow-- the snow is crunching on the tires."

He was dying laughing. I... felt ridiculous. But it also kind of made me happy. There are some times where I feel like I've completely acclimated to living I'm Boston. And then there are times when I think that the car is broken when I'm really just driving over crunchy, softish icy snow.

At those times, my southern girl inside smiles as if to let me know that she's still there, always that on the ball but just far enough behind to not fully be classified as a Yankee.