The other night, Jordan and I were visiting with our friend Caleb and his family at their house. Caleb had just returned home from his school in Chicago for the Christmas break, and while he helped his parents assemble a sleek new desk for their sleek new iMac, we sat on their couch and chatted.
As the evening went on, it began to snow steadily outside. It had been raining all day, and snowing off and on in certain parts of the city, but now it was coming down in huge, fluffy flakes, and there looked to be at least an inch or two on the roads.
After some coffee, some more catching up, and part of an episode of Lost (which is by far the most bizarre show I have ever seen), we decided it was time to head home. I pulled on my boots, which were still wet and cold from walking around in the rain all day, and after goodbyes in the entry way Jordan and I carefully made our way out to our car, both of us almost slipping.
The snow was beautiful. It illuminated the night, even though it was past eleven o’clock. The clouds reflected the orange city lights, and the roads and yard shone with the light from the street lamps. Everything was quiet and muffled, except for the faint whispering noise of the snow falling through the tree branches.
I marveled a little at the loveliness of it all, but soon I was overcome by my desire to be warm and to not have cold, wet feet. Our car was under a throw blanket of snow that draped down to cover the door handles. Some of it shook off when I opened my door, and when Jordan got in on the driver’s side.
The next few things all happened nearly simultaneously. Before I knew what was going on, Jordan had reached up and pressed the button to open the car’s sunroof, which was laden with snow. He had intended to turn on the dome light and had mistaken the sunroof button for the light switch.
As soon as he realized what he had done, he said, almost laughing, “Oh, I don’t know!” as if to indicate that he wasn’t sure how he had just done what he did.
At this point, I had begun screaming.
“Jordan! What are you doing?! Why are you opening the sunroof?! Geeeeahhh!!”
That last exclamation was the result of a clump of snow falling not only on me, but down the inside of my coat and my shirt, so that now my feet weren’t the only parts of my body that were cold and wet.
I jumped out of the car, tore my coat off and tried to get the snow out of my shirt. Meanwhile, more snow was falling into the car, on the seats, in the spaces between the seats, in the cavity around the parking break, and on Jordan, who was laughing. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry, but at the moment I was doing a little of both. My hysteria reduced to a simmering anger, and after I got most of the snow out of my shirt, I began to tear up. I was standing in the snow, cold and wet and tired, and I had completely forgotten how beautiful I thought everything was just a few minutes earlier.
“Look at this! There’s snow everywhere. Now I’m going to have to sit on the snow, too. And everything’s going to be wet.” I imagine I sounded rather like a whining child, but I didn’t appreciate how funny Jordan thought it all was.
“Here,” he said. He took off his own coat and laid it across my seat so I could sit on it. I got back into the car, draped my coat across me like a blanket, and pouted.
The reason for this whole scenario was that Jordan wanted find out how to put it into four-wheel drive, and he needed the dome light on in order to read the manual. It turns out that we were mistaken in thinking that the car had four-wheel drive at all, and after flipping through the manual several times with no luck, we finally drove home. On the way, I complained about the snow that had stuck to the inside of the car roof and was now dripping on my head. Jordan took off his hat and put it on me. A few minutes later, I put it back on him, after he too flinched under the dripping ice water.
Last night, as we were lying in bed and I watched Jordan play Pokemon on his gameboy, I began laughing as I remembered the sunroof fiasco.
“I was so mad at you!” I said, laughing at how ridiculous I had been and how funny the whole event seemed in hindsight. I shifted closer to Jordan, cuddling him and resting my head on his arm.
Jordan rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you love me now.”
Of course, the implication of that statement isn’t true. I always loved Jordan; it’s just harder to show it when you’ve got snow down the back of your shirt.