Me, Being Darling Me

Yesterday we got freezing rain.  Now, call me a naive Utahan, but I thought that was strictly an East coast weather dilemma.  Everything was covered in ice.  It took Ken (riding the bus) 3 hours to get the 15 miles to work.  I set the car seat down on the driveway and it started to slip away.  I rethought my plans of going out.  The car was an ice cube anyway. I herded the Koley back in and slid Joey's seat down the path.  I'll tell him he went ice skating at 6 months.
Now.
As the day progressed out driveway which is a fairly decent hill got slicker and slicker.  At first there were a few patches that were manageable but as the hours passed our driveway became a solid piece of ice.  Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous.
Me, being the sweet hearted wife I am, worried about Ken.  The bus drops him off at the top of that Death Trap.  He won't be able to tell it's all icy because it'll be dark.  What should I do?  What should I do?
I don my snow boots.  I Yukon Charlie it through the yard.  Each step breaking through a layer of ice and sinking a few inches down into safe snow.  Behind me I drag a sled.
It took about 5 minutes to get to the top of the yard.  I slipped once or twice.  But I made it.  To the mailbox.  After retrieving the mail, I looped the rope from the sled around the mailbox.  And began trudging back to the house.
I was so proud of myself.
I provided a safety sled for Kenmo!  This way he could get off the bus, and not have to worry about scootching his way down the driveway.  He could just ride down.  Problem solved.  Crisis averted.  Award completely (!) deserved.
I called Ken.
"Hey, Ken.  It's really slippy here."
"Yeah, same here."
"Well... our driveway is especially bad."
"Is it?"
"Yeah.  Like it's one solid sheet of ice.  Way bad."
"Yeah, it's bad here too."
At this point I could tell Ken wasn't grasping the severity of our driveway... nor was he looking to me for a solution I could provide.
"I bet it's worse here.  I mean.  I'm not sure how you're going to make it to the house from the bus stop."
Hint.Hint.Hint.Hint.Hint.Hint.
"I'll make it."
"I don't know, man.  It's bad."
"I'll be alright."
Playing tough.  I'll just help him help himself.
"Well, I put a sled up there for ya."
"A sled up...where?"
"At the top of the driveway.  By the mailbox."
"Why?"
"So you.  Could.  Get.  Down."
I was wondering why I had to spell this out.  
"You want me to ride down in a sled?"
"You'll kill yourself trying to walk!  It's all ice!"
"In my work clothes?  In the snow?  I'll get all snowy!"
"Don't ride in the snow, Ken.  Ride down the driveway!  It's your only option."
"I'm not riding in a sled down the driveway."
"I hooked it around the mailbox.  You'll see it no problem when you get off the bus."
"I won't be needing it."
"But I walked all the way out there.  I thought of this plan for you.  You need this.  You'll see."
"You're crazy."

Ken came home.  Carried the sled down the driveway.  Somehow he made it in one piece.
Ironman.  Superman.  Ken.  That's the holy order of it.

I just keep thinking.  Ice or no ice.  If someone set up a way for me to end my day riding a sled home... I'd say, "I love you, Patty.  You're awesome.  And thoughtful.  Have I mentioned beautiful and charismatic?"