Many moons ago, I think it was around the late 70's, my parents took off for a little winter vacation, and left us 3 kids in the care of my grandparents. If memory serves, they took the train to Kansas City for some square dancing thing.
Since school was in session, my grandparents had to stay out at the farm, since, while they only lived 7 miles away, they were in a different school system. Our farm was 2.5 miles outside of a town of 250 people. Our road was a standard chip rock country road. Little traveled except by the people who live on it.
And not the highest priority to get plowed out.
You can guess where this is going?
Yup, it had been a snowy winter with the ditches filled with snow, and the road cut thru the drifts. Well, it didn't take much to drift the road closed. And we got more than enough. Way more.
But that didn't help my grandparents.
Their car was parked in the garage.
Behind a 6' high drift.
At the end of a 40 yard driveway that was 3 feet deep in snow.
Oh, and did I mention that they were both pack-a-day smokers and had run out of cigarettes? 2 days ago.
By the time my parent's train pulled in to town, the nicotine withdraw was in full force. Grandma had cleaned the entire house. Top to bottom. Twice. Mom & Dad called from town (what's a "cell phone"?) to see if we needed anything. The only thing that they asked my parents to bring was cigarettes.
Mom & Dad made it home, and Dad used the front end loader to clear the drive.
And Grandma & Grandpa enjoyed the best cigarettes of their lives.