Around 11:30AM or so, after shoveling out our driveway and my wife's car, I took off for some lunch. I drove through our recently shoveled street, and then had to stop. A truck was stuck, blocking the entrance to the street that crosses ours. I live on a long dead-end road, and with the one entrance blocked, it meant no take-out lunch.
The driver of the truck was walking up the road, his ear pressed to his cell. "The road's blocked", he said, and I nodded, already thinking about what was in our refrigerator. On an off-day, I think I would have gotten very impatient, and even angry about this sudden change in plans. The driver walked by me after I executed a K-turn to head back home. "How about getting out another way?" he asked. "This is the only way out," I said. Then I put on a smile. "Well, someone's coming to help us out," he offered. "Good luck with it!" I said, as cheerful as I could. I didn't want take-out anyway.