February Sucks for Walter Mitty - Sex Stories

February Sucks for Walter Mitty

... full-time stay-at-home dad, tormented by the constant, muffled sound ofFrozen coming out of the living room and repeatedly forced to halt my work to serve snacks, mediate conflicts, and tell stories to a pair of understimulated munchkins. Despite my best efforts to get the kids out in the yard, the glacial temperatures and towering snow drifts usually kept us huddled inside. By the time Valentine's Day was on the horizon, I was getting a new understanding of why the Donner party ended up the way it did--I think maybe it wasn't just about the food.

Linda had it somewhat easier because of her job--at least she got to spend the day talking to adults--but I could tell the walls were closing in on her, too. In a burst of optimism and desperation, she and the other wives in our circle planned a big Valentine's Day outing. The women went all out--they bought new dresses, lined up childcare, made reservations at a top-notch restaurant and found a club that was known for its good cocktails and great dancing. It was going to be a grand celebration of getting over the hump of a tough winter, and a little boost to get us through to Spring.

Linda's roll of the dice came up snake eyes when another storm hit, dumping a ton of snow and shutting down half the city. The club closed, the restaurant cancelled our reservation, and the State Police advised everyone to restrict travel to essential business. Even if they hadn't all weighed in, I'm pretty sure Linda would have wanted to ...

... cancel: Temperatures were well below zero, and her new dress and shoes would have looked weird over thermal underwear and wool kneesocks.

And so I found myself on the morning of February 14th shoveling a foot and a half of snow off the driveway. It wasn't like we were going to go out any time soon, but with two kids in the house, you really can't afford to be snowbound. Besides, it gave me a brief respite from listening toFrozen.

(The irony of Emma and Tommy'sFrozen obsession wasn't lost on me. If Disney's addictive little nugget of brain candy kept the kids thinking about the magic of snow and ice, so much the better. For my part, my thoughts were drifting more toward Jack London's "To Build a Fire" and that group of rugby players that crashed in the Andes in the 1970s.)

That particular morning, the snowblower was in the repair shop and I was imagining myself slaving in a wintry prison:

Jimmy Dufresne's muscles strained as he shoved his battered shovel through the snow drift. "Cold enough for you, Red?" he called over to his friend, who was digging his own ditch through the exercise yard.

"Naw, Jimmy, I like it a few degrees colder," Red said thoughtfully. "Keeps me fresh and young. Like a beer in the fridge."

Hadley, the toughest screw in Shawshank, shouted at the two men. "You're not at a tea party, ladies! Less chitter chatter, more shoveling."

Red and Jimmy went back to it. "Cranky, cranky," Jimmy muttered, just loud enough for Red to hear. "It's almost ...