I am not a car person. I drive a car. I name my car. I get the oil changed more or less on schedule. I take it in when those crazy lights suddenly go off on the dash.
I do not, however, pamper my car. I don't wipe down the upholstery. I don't vacuum the interior. I rarely even use the squeegy things at the gas pumps. I have never taken my car . . . any of my cars . . . through a car wash.
Today I turned over a new leaf. My car was full of all the stuff moms drag around in the winter in case you are suddenly caught in a snowstorm in the middle of nowhere and have to keep your children alive for a week without assistance. Warm blankets, extra pull-ups, a first-aid kit, a pile of toys the kids had to take with them to the store but didn't care enough about to bring them back into the house.
It was time for drastic measures.
So today I lugged my trusty Dyson, a can of Pledge, a bottle of Carbona 2-in-1, a roll of paper towels, and a laundry basket--not to mention my kids--out to the driveway for an unprecedented venture into cleanliness. We discovered all kinds of things in that car.
Happy Meal toys from McDonald's. Four water bottles, all of which had been opened already. (I suppose I'd have let the kids drink them on Day 3 of the aforementioned snowstorm, but certainly not before then!) Receipts. My atlas.
(Yes, I still use an atlas. I know my phone has GoogleMaps. I don't like to use it. I don't like allowing my phone to know where I am. I know NCIS could hack into my phone in 20 seconds flat, turn on the GPS, and determine my location anyway, but there's a part of me that wants them to have to work at it a little.)
Back to the task at hand. I sorted everything into recycle (which got dumped into the bin), garbage (which went into the Stop & Shop bags I keep in my glove compartment for just such an occasion, keep in the car (piled in the driveway), and take into the house to disinfect (in the laundry basket).
Most of you have probably done this before, so this is nothing new. It was a new experience for me, however, and I was surprised at how fulfilling it was. I liked seeing my vinyl interior shine again. I liked the smell of Pledge filling my car. (Who doesn't like the smell of Pledge?!) I liked the absence of gravel all over the floor.
My favorite part, I think, was seeing the car seats so clean. Carbona is my best friend for tasks like that, and it had its work cut out for it today. I had treated the kids to their first shakes a few days ago. For some reason I thought straws would be neater than open-mouthed containers. Not so. By the time they were done, stickiness was everywhere.
Not anymore! Those straps and seats and buckles are spic and span! Of course, everyone wants their kids in clean seats. I found it particularly pleasing today because, of all types of grime, sticky is my biggest aversion. I've handled manure and dirt and mud with barely an eyelash flicker. But get near me with watermelon juice . . . ice cream . . . jelly . . . smashed fruit . . . yuck.
My children have grown accustomed to the following interaction:
ME: "NO! Don't touch me! I haven't washed your hands yet."
THEM: "But Mommy, I just want to give you a hug!"
ME: "I know. And I love your hugs. But please let me wash your hands and face first!"
THEM (Defeating my evasive maneuvers and wrapping their tacky selves around me): "But Mommy, I just love you so much!"
What can you do?!
Suffice it to say, I am looking forward to going to church tomorrow in my spiffy clean Subaru. There's only one problem. I had every intention of washing the exterior today as well, but instead I got sidetracked into rebuilding my pasture fence for the critters I am hoping will be joining us shortly.
(Why mow when you can do chores twice a day? I think we can all expect some juicy blog posts out of this decision . . . !)
I could wash it tomorrow afternoon after church, but then I wouldn't be able to mow the lawn (which is about a week overdue since I was unable to mow last Sunday!). I might have done it anyway and let the grass grow a little while longer except for the fact that the Memorial Day parade goes right past my house.
And after all, one must keep up appearances!
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