Adventure at the Car Wash

After twelve years of abstinence, I decided to wash my car. An older friend had once told me that there were certain things that a lady shouldn’t have to do, and I had wholeheartedly embraced this concept in terms of car washing and mowing the grass.

Of course, this philosophy works best when someone’s willing to wash said car for you, or you’re willing to sport a filthy ride.

So said car was dirty, and reality being that there is no one to wash it for me anymore, I figured I better try and determine if it was like riding a bike.(Hmm, I haven’t ridden one of those since I was a teenager. That may be the next task I need to take on.)

I enlisted the help of my two children with the idea that it would be a fun project for the three of us to do together.

In traditional fashion, personalities emerged quickly. My son enjoyed the process of completing a task, and he even stuck around to dry the car. Mini-Me lost interest before we made it to side two of the car. She instead decided to wash her scooter before moving on to a small ball.

The ball was interesting, for as you can imagine a ball won’t stand still when water shoots forcefully out of a garden hose at it. After chasing it around the driveway for a bit like a great puppy chase, she distracted her brother into helping her.  He proceeded to hold the ball out in front of him while she aimed the garden hose at it. She shot him with water up and down, narrowly escaping the ball with each pass, as he yelled, face turning red, for her to stop. I turned to intercede and startled her into turning the hose on me.

We emerged soaking wet, but with a clean car. One memorable family moment. Check.

I still haven’t relented on the mowing grass objection. I have to retain some claim on the saying that a lady should refrain from doing such dirty tasks. Besides, me with a lawn mower may be dangerous for all involved, but maybe the car washing business isn’t so bad.