Was it the Gas or the Ladies?

I am quite a feminine woman. But I am also a feminist. Equality for all. No prejudices based on sex. My husband has always agreed with this and we've prided ourselves on being stereotype-busters. But... is my husband the man he has always claimed to be? All of this snow has created a revealing situation.

History: Chris has never shoveled our driveway. I am the resident snow-shoveler. And if a neighbor is unable to shovel, I shovel for them too. Which I have been doing for NeighborLady these past few weeks.

BUT, this weekend Chris got home from work on Saturday morning and couldn't get in our driveway. So he stumbled into the garage, discovered where the shovels hang, and proceeded to shovel a path into our driveway. He gets no more than 3 shovelfuls flung when NeighborLady comes out and offers him the use of her just-purchased snowblower.

Now my husband has always bucked the stereotype that "the smell of gas gets (his) blood pumping," as my father once put it. Every male in the room had hastened to agree - except Chris. (That's my boy!)

So on Saturday morning, it was "with reluctance" that he assented to use NeighborLady's snowblower to do our driveway. And hers. And the neighborlady's across the street. And the neighborlady right next door. And the sidewalk for the couple across the street. And the family right next to them. By this time, I had awoken and peered out the window to watch all of this. I rubbed my eyes. Yep, it was Chris.

He cut quite a dashing figure, sort of like Arnold in The Terminator, all square-shouldered and relentless. The snow would blow up and blast him, obscuring him from view. Moments later, he would emerge from the haze - still square-shouldered, still moving the snow. I wasn't the only one who noticed.

Everywhere the guy went, women poured out of their houses to chitchat with him (at least it looked like chatting from my vantage point!), and daintily shovel some ancillary piece of property.

Now who should happen to call, but my dad. Naturally, I filled him in. He clearly enjoyed the scene as much as I did - with not a little gloating, "Oh yeah, nothin' like that smell of gas in the morning." Just then, the plot thickened. NeighborLady followed him into our driveway with her shovel. Dad suggested posting "No Trespassing" signs. On Chris.

Sunday morning was a repeat. With the addition of a plate of homemade "thank you" cookies. Hmm... so what am I to blame (thank?) for this transformation: Was it the smell of gas - or the scent of a woman? And which way do I want this question answered? I mean, if he's been a secret gearhead all this time, what does that do for women's - or men's - lib?

On the other hand, what if it's the ladies? Or maybe that's OK, as long as he's only blowing their snow. Huh, I can hear it already, "But Honey, I was just blowing her snow."

Oh, what a quandary! Do I buy him a snowblower of his own? Bake more cookies? Dab gasoline behind my ears?

Spring cannot come too soon! Out damn snow!