My Very Own Dumpster on Wheels

The only thing I want to do less than work on a post is clean out my car. It’s pouring outside, and chilly. Coco’s peacefully napping and Hank’s upstairs with a video. I’d like to be curled up with a book and a cup of tea, but I’m forcing myself to sit here at the keyboard as I have pledged to get something up every day. I’m sure you all would forgive me if I skipped a day, but I can’t give up this early in the month with no good excuse. Besides, anything’s better than standing around in the rain trying to dig out the goldfish from between the seats. However, I have volunteered to take a couple of ladies to yoga happy hour this evening, so it’s got to be done. My vehicle’s an absolute disaster: trash, clothes and of course mountains of goldfish and Cheerios. The back is full of stuff that needs to go to the recycling center. It’s been so rainy lately, and there’s dried mud all over the place, including on the back of the passenger seat where Hank likes to kick up his heels. The wheel is all sticky, the dashboard is dusty. Fortunately, I don’t think I’ve left any dirty diapers under the seat in a while, but you really never know what will turn up.

I know plenty of people who let their kids eat in the car. How do they keep things from getting out of hand? I suppose most sane people just take their trash into the house with them when they get out of the car, something I just can’t seem to bring myself to do. I have suggested driving around with a dustbuster, but my darling spouse has something against them. I usually wind up dragging a vacuum cleaner out there with an extension cord. Don’t really want to risk electrocution this afternoon (especially with a much needed night out in the works), so I’ll probably just brush all the crumbs out onto the driveway. OK…going out now. And only when every last goldfish has been cast out into the universe will I allow myself a cup of fragrant, steaming tea.