A few weeks ago I went to see one of my dear friends before she left for a mission trip. It was important to me that I see her before she left as she was going to Cambodia to work with children who are sold at night. (Not easy work for anyone, I couldn't do it without wanting to adopt them all and make sure the people responsible didn't go home.) We decided that we needed to have one last great dinner out before she left. Of course since the people we were with were all tall we decided to take my truck.
Taking my truck involves moving car seats and well kid junk and throwing trash away. The process takes at least 10 minutes if the people you are traveling with don't mind stepping on junk. If you have children, you know you never ever turn a car seat upside down and to expect under the seat will be pretty messy. In my car multiply the never ever by 12. I don't think about cleaning the car out till I have to drive someone who is not a child. Then the panic begins. I don't look back there, so I am painfully unaware of what it looks like. I am no longer unaware.
The process started with the removal of Adam's car seat. Which I screamed when one of the people helping me tried to just turn it sideways and shove it in the back! Don't do it!!! I think the shock and total look of you are crazy crossed his face. But, when turned upside down the dawning of why I didn't want it done that way occurred. I don't even want to think about what fell out of that seat, ever. After removing the car seat my friends husband looked and said I think I need the shop vac before we can even sit down. (At this point my only defense is well no defense. The last of my worries is how my car looks, I just don't care, I get in, I drive it where I need to go, I get out.) The shop vac sucks up the majority of crap on the seat and we are off, and the commentary begins.
FH: So, Ari, do you know your children are artists?
Me: Ummm, why do you say that?
FH: It appears they have been drawing on your windows.
Me: WHAT?
FH: Yeah, it looks like spit paintings on your back windows. They are some talented spit artist's. Maybe, there's some boogers in there too.
Me: Oh gross!
They taunted and teased me all the way to the restaurant where we proceeded to get out of the truck my friends husband looked down at his white shirt,
FH: I wasn't this dirty when I got in the truck.
Me: Yeah you were that was shop vac dirt.
FH: I don't think so. You know what I'm not going to think about this, I'm just glad I have had all my shots.
F: Well, I'm still finishing with the Typhoid Shots but I have all the others.
Me: Shut up!
Guess I need to get my truck detailed. Sigh. Whatever!
Taking my truck involves moving car seats and well kid junk and throwing trash away. The process takes at least 10 minutes if the people you are traveling with don't mind stepping on junk. If you have children, you know you never ever turn a car seat upside down and to expect under the seat will be pretty messy. In my car multiply the never ever by 12. I don't think about cleaning the car out till I have to drive someone who is not a child. Then the panic begins. I don't look back there, so I am painfully unaware of what it looks like. I am no longer unaware.
The process started with the removal of Adam's car seat. Which I screamed when one of the people helping me tried to just turn it sideways and shove it in the back! Don't do it!!! I think the shock and total look of you are crazy crossed his face. But, when turned upside down the dawning of why I didn't want it done that way occurred. I don't even want to think about what fell out of that seat, ever. After removing the car seat my friends husband looked and said I think I need the shop vac before we can even sit down. (At this point my only defense is well no defense. The last of my worries is how my car looks, I just don't care, I get in, I drive it where I need to go, I get out.) The shop vac sucks up the majority of crap on the seat and we are off, and the commentary begins.
FH: So, Ari, do you know your children are artists?
Me: Ummm, why do you say that?
FH: It appears they have been drawing on your windows.
Me: WHAT?
FH: Yeah, it looks like spit paintings on your back windows. They are some talented spit artist's. Maybe, there's some boogers in there too.
Me: Oh gross!
They taunted and teased me all the way to the restaurant where we proceeded to get out of the truck my friends husband looked down at his white shirt,
FH: I wasn't this dirty when I got in the truck.
Me: Yeah you were that was shop vac dirt.
FH: I don't think so. You know what I'm not going to think about this, I'm just glad I have had all my shots.
F: Well, I'm still finishing with the Typhoid Shots but I have all the others.
Me: Shut up!
Guess I need to get my truck detailed. Sigh. Whatever!
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