An idea struck. It was quite a snazzy affair, very long, like Mary Poppins' bumbershoot, and it was made of a wild black and white geometric print. We placed it crossways of one of the wheels and sister stepped gently on the gas pedal. He would die rather than use an umbrella for such a thing. He would come closer to using his own arm, leg or head for the project.
Women have no such prejudices.
We are just ignorant enough about these matters to think it might work. And it did. We backed out of there as if the proverbial Hounds of Hell were on our heels. The umbrella was no doubt broken into hundreds of splinters and bits of black and white material as its missiles flew into the night. We didn't even think of retrieving any part of it.