You know how Dateline was at my house on Sunday.
And I told you about how big of a shithole my house was on Saturday.
Well, in the midst of the 11 hour cleaning extravaganza, I grabbed my dad, and we ran to the car wash.
He was on vacuum duty.
You may have used the industrial strength vacuums at a car wash before.
They have pretty big hoses, and are strong enough to suck a small adult up off the floor.
Yeah. We only clogged that up twice.
Anyway, while Dad fought with the vacuum, I sprayed down the inside.
An hour later, the car looked pretty darn good.
We, on the other hand, looked pretty much like this:
So yesterday I was driving Number 3 to school.
I was feeling especially good in my newly scrubbed car.
But Number 3 was a little confused.
“Mom?” he asked.
“Uh huh?” I answered.
“What’s that weird smell?”
Are you kidding me? I go 12 rounds with this car, almost resurrecting it to its original condition, and that is what you have to say???
“Um, I don’t smell a weird smell,” I said.
Sighing.
Heavily.
“I do,” he said.
I held my breath, and waited for him to finish.
“It smells…
clean.”
Okay.
So maybe we won’t wait until we are on another tv show before we clean the car out again…
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