When a snow plow buried her son during the night, the boy’s only thought was to arch his back to compress the snow above him, like in the movies, and then wiggle thru the snow at his feet where it was the thinnest; and then he would run home in tears, having narrowly avoided a wintery grave, and cry about his ordeal in his mother’s arms, and receive hugs and kisses and hot chocolate afterwards. That was the boy’s only thought.
As Seen on T.V.,