The Snow Shovel Tush-Push

This story starts on a foggy winter day. A thick layer of ice had formed on our driveway, and the continual driving in and out had only hardened our tracks. It looked like train tracks coming out of the garage, with our vehicles locked onto a oneway path.

So my daughter got a brilliant idea - grab shovels and break up the ice. I wasn’t sure if it would be any fun or not, but she was offering to go outside. I had suggested cross-country skiing, knowing that miles of beautiful trails were close by. I asked if she wanted to build a snowman? No and no. What she craved was ice demolition.

We began by sliding our shovels underneath the glassy ice, then leaning down on the handles to pop chunks off the blacktop. It was like flipping pancakes stuck to the pan. We threw our backs into it, slowly chipping away at different sections of the pavement. We got all sweaty.

Then my brain did something that I think a lot of adults struggle with. I reflected on what we were doing, and determined it didn’t really have any value. I wondered if we should put our effort elsewhere? After all, the ice would slowly melt on its own. The driveway was passable, and with my snowblower, I would be able to dispose of any unwanted new white flakes. There had to be something more productive to do. Wasn’t this pretty meaningless?

Think, think, think. No, it couldn’t be. There was value in our outdoor adventure. We were getting fresh air. We were enjoying the beauty of our property, and the neighborhood we love. We were exercising without weights or running shoes. And most importantly, we were happy.

After the ice chunks started piling up, we knew it was time to shift the operation to disposal mode. The only problem was that everything we were breaking up was in the center of the driveway. So I put my shovel to the ground and began pushing everything to the edges. After a few passes, I encouraged my daughter to join. Instead, she handed me her shovel and instructed me to hold a shovel with each hand while she got behind me.

Then came the tush-push. With all that extra horsepower, I was able to move twice the amount of ice with each run. We also doubled our laughter. Taking our own spin on ice removal, I think this technique has some real merit. Plus, kids love to push their parents around.

By the time we returned inside for soup and hot chocolate, the driveway had gotten a little cleaner. We also had pink noses from the prolonged exposure to the winter weather. It may have only put a dent in the ice tracks, but it gave my daughter and me something fun to do. So go play with your kids. Don’t be confined to the same routines. You might stumble upon a new activity, or at least create some fun inside jokes for your family.