timing

It's all about the timing.
That's what I was telling my kids this week, as we watched Enrique maneuver the snowblower in the driveway (for the third consecutive time in a week).

We were talking about storms, and snow days and vacations, and how they have happened to time out just right, (snow day, weekend, Martin Luther King Day, snow day, two hour delay-day, and then another snow day all in the course of about a week) so that we are enjoying more time in the cabin together.  I was going out to shovel the walk, and one of the girls sort of whines "Do I have to watch him again?"
(We don't like the idea of someone using a snowblower unsupervised... it's not like someone could lose an eye, but it's likely that an appendage or two might be in danger)
Anyway, I giggled and said "no" because I would be outside, and then the whine morphed into the explanation of how he had deliberately pointed the snowblower nozzle to spray frozen gusts of mini-blizzard all over her face, to which two other siblings agreed emphatically, as apparently it had happened to them also.
At that very moment, a great gust of wind carried the snow being expelled from the nozzle of the snow blower, and wrapped it around Enrique's head and torso, as if to entomb him in an upright sarcophagus of whirling snow.  It was classic.  And just as the snow stopped blowing, he'd proceed to move ahead and it happened again.  And again.  And I laughed some more, as he glared towards the window where we were now all standing and watching intensely, with great amusement, and he raised his arms in a gesture as if to say "are you KIDDING me?"  And I said to the rest of the kids "it's all about the TIMING... and karma."