Going out to shovel

My husband, at my prodding, went out to shovel. This was not a big job, since we don't have a driveway; it only involved shoveling a flight of steps and around his car. The problem was, in addition to not having a driveway, we don't have a shovel. We live in a townhouse with not much property, and it hasn't snowed much this year, and so we just haven't gotten around to purchasing a shovel yet. Maybe we hoped that if we didn't get one, it wouldn't snow. Back in Michigan this wasn't much of an issue, as I paid association dues to have the snow shoveled for me, but here in Maryland things work slightly differently. You still pay dues, but they don't shovel the snow. I'm not sure what the dues are for. Probably so the association officers can winter in Barbados, where they do not have to shovel snow.

But back to my husband shoveling. He wanted to know how he was supposed to shovel the snow without a shovel. I made the rather obvious suggestion that he borrow one from the neighbors.
"So you think I could borrow one from the neighbors?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Without asking?"
"No! Of course you need to ask first."
"I hate talking to people. Can't I just use the broom?"
Although we have, on occasion, used the broom to sweep off a dusting of light, powdery snow on the steps, this snow was sandwiched between layers of ice.
No, you can't just use a broom, I told him. I advised him to ask Chris and Abbie, the neighbors we know best, for their shovel.
"Could I ask Steve?" he countered. "He wouldn't mind, would he?"
"I don't know if he has a shovel. I haven't seen him out shoveling. I know Chris and Abbie have one. Go ask them."
"But I hate being social."
"You're not having tea with them, you're just asking if you can borrow their shovel!"
He rummaged in the basement. "Isn't there anything else I could use? How about a dustpan?"
I would not comment on that.
Apparently resigned to his distasteful social task, he asked where his boots were. "I didn't know you had any boots," I said.
"Oh. Maybe I don't." Sigh. "I hate being social."
The door slammed. Later I checked on him through the window. Yes, he had an actual shovel, approved for shoveling snow, and was attacking the icy stuff encasing his car. On the car itself, however, he was using half an ice scraper, as his had broken some time back and he never replaced it. I supposed it was too much to suggest that he borrow one of those, too.

When he came in he announced that he had returned the shovel to Chris and Abbie's porch.
"I put it back," he said.
I nodded, engrossed in my work.
"I mean I put it back without telling them it was back. Do you think that was okay?"
"You didn't tell them you were returning it?" I said incredulously.
"That wasn't okay? Do you think I should have said something to them?" he said, worried now .
"Well, yes, it would have been nice to thank them for loaning it to you."
"Do you think I should go back?" he asked anxiously.
"No," I said. You hate being social."