We’re home from Texas. Texas is far. This house is tired. Everything here in Blog Land will be back to normal this Thursday. Let’s have one more flashback, shall we? Here, of course, is the infamous Car Wash Episode. Still makes me laugh. Just last week- my hand to heaven- the child pointed to a car wash next to our gas pump and said, “Nooo, Mom. No.”
Remember that there is a giveaway happening here [click] AND there will be another one on Thursday. See you then!
originally posted September 25, 2008
Mondays Laura and I have a standing date involving cheap food. We’ve done it twice now, which makes it a tradition. This week, I was 15 minutes early and decided to run the ol’ Subaru through the automatic car wash. This is a big deal. So big, in fact, that I had visions of Curt buying me diamonds for washing the 42 layers of country road dirt off my back windshield. Washing the car is the last thing on my mind these days, what with the war and elections and canning season here… so I figured I’d put those 15 minutes to good use. I paid the nice man and he guided me into the left wheel lane.
Now- I should admit here that I’ve had trouble with this kind of maneuver before. I may or may not have once ended up straddling the conveyor belt at a car wash across town and had to reverse out, causing 3 cars behind me to ALSO reverse out into on-coming traffic. AND, once I almost died by driving my car into the oil check pit. Again, marriage is good for me because The Boy usually takes care of these things at home. We are all safer for it, believe me.
Back to the car wash. Right. So. Monday. I pay the man, I successfully jump on the conveyor belt, I check my windows, I put the car in neutral. Things are good. As it gets a bit darker in the tunnel, Ry starts to panic a little. We sing a bit. All is well. Then the rumbling starts as the washers approach and the spraying starts. Ry starts to lose it. It’s stinkin’ loud in there. No problem. I decide I will take her out of her car seat and have her sit with me. Fun.
I unbuckle and turn around but cannot find Rylie. Oh, wait. There she is. UNDER ALL THE SUDS AND WATER THAT ARE POURING IN FROM THE WINDOW ACROSS FROM HER. I am a genius, people. Seriously. I totally checked the windows before I started. I totally did. *sigh* I used my remaining 2 minutes of being early to wipe down the back seat with my fleece jacket. The back seat is now very clean and my child is scarred for life.
That right there, Folks, is why I have always believed I live in a Dawson’s Creek episode minus the underage drinking and cyclical dating.