When Mom and John finally did return, John stupidly parked the car right on top of a big patch of ice. About twenty minutes after they arrived, John looked out the window and our car was gone.
He ran to the door and threw it open. “Our car has been stolen!” he stupidly shouted.
Of course our car hadn’t been stolen. It simply slid back down the drive about thirty feet and backed right into the mound of snow that Beth had piled up when she was clearing the snow with their tractor.
Joey and I helped dig it out too, but mostly John did all the work. Once he had dug the car out, we could see that the whole backend of our car was crunched and twisted.