HARD TO "HANDLE"

My son has one of those foam-topped scrapers to clear snow off the roof of his car.  All winter he has left it inside the house with the shovels, where scrapers and shovels all wait patiently to be used in case of snow.  It has snowed maybe three times over the winter, so there isn't much call for the foam-topped snow-clearer. 

Mostly we just trip over it.  Occasionally we step on it and it clunks into us, the long handle catching us in a rib or an eye or right in the kisser.

As spring rolls in, my son moves out.  He rents a small moving truck for the big stuff, and I load a bunch of smaller stuff into my car.  I love my son, but I want to make damn sure he takes that rather aggressive foam-topped snow-clearer with him.  I unscrew the top part, shove the foam scraper into a random moving box, and I place the handle in my trunk.

Moving day is overcast with intermittent bouts of rain.  It's dark, it's dreary, but it's relatively warm (for April in New England).  I help unload some stuff off the truck, but mostly I concentrate on my car.  I carry in boxes and clothes and other stuff, like glassware and coolers of beer. 

It's raining in earnest when we finish.  I pull my car back into a regular space and accompany my son back to the truck rental place.  I hang out for a bit, head out with them for dinner, and eventually get on the road well after dark.

Fast-forward a few days -- I am loading groceries into my trunk when I notice something in my way.  I reach in to move whatever it is that is keeping my bags from sitting flush with the trunk surface.

Damnitall!

Inside my trunk is the handle to the foam-topped snow-clearer, the same doo-dad over which I have tripped all winter; the same item I purposefully packed myself in my own trunk to take to my son's new place.

Oh, well.  At least now I have an excuse to crash HIS place for a change.  Hopefully it won't snow in the interim.