Four inches of wet, heavy snow.  I’d been out twice since 6:15, clearing the snow from two cars, shoveling.  It was 10:30 now, and the snow continued.  “Sugar?”

“Yeah Mom…” He starts down the stairs and faces me.

“I’m going to need you to take a turn here, Dad was out once and I’ve been out twice…”

*eye roll, exasperated look, like he’s beleaguered by constant requests like these instead of largely spared*

Now at 11:30, with yet more snow on the ground, the plow had come through and boxed us in with another margin of packed icy shit at the end of the driveway.  I came in, sodden, pink-faced, glasses fogged, breathing heavily.

“…Phew, oh my god.  Wow…”

“Mom, you ok?”

“Just give me a minute to catch my breath, I– oh, wow. Phew.”  I milked it a bit, I’m actually fitter than this.  “I, uh, I just really need your help,” I said as I gasped and shook my head.  “I’m just not strong enough to move that heavy stuff at the end of the driveway…”

The prince widens his shoulders, shrugs on his coat, peels on his hat, and says with the authority of a man who’s got business to attend to, “I got this.”