Talkin' 'bout the car wash

With temperatures blissfully climbing to 60 yesterday, Lori had a task for the boys and me: Get the cars cleaned out and washed. And not at the full-service car wash that costs $18 and you don't lift a finger, but rather at a self-serve car wash where you do all the vacuuming, soaping, rinsing and waxing. I was a little resistant to do this with the boys. Would they argue over who gets the vacuum first? Would they want to help me clean out all the garbage under the seats (and oh, was there ever a lot of garbage under the seats, including Pull-Ups, which Ben hasn't worn in two years)? Would they fight on who got to use the soap brush in the washing bay? At a full-serve car wash, the boys get to watch the whole process. Yesterday, they were going to be part of the whole process.

Lori got this one right: Having the boys help was fun. They did a good job, too, though Michael needs to understand that when he's wiping down a surface, he needs to wipe down the whole surface and not just drag the wipe across once. They did haggle a little over the soap brush, and I wasn't about to let Ben try the power washer (I did let Michael on our second car, for with Ben didn't come which), but I might make the car wash adventure a family thing from now on.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Vacation finale

Image
As expected, the last three days of vacation were much less eventful than the first 12. This happens every year -- we get back from Wisconsin for at least one day before leaving for Utah, and it's just wind-down time. And that's OK -- going nonstop for two weeks isn't easy, especially with kids. And vacation is supposed to be a time to relax, and for the past three days, that's what we did. The past few days weren't that relaxing, however. Monday, we met my mom, who is in Chicago this week, for lunch and then to Old Orchard Mall. That night, we met some friends at the new Superdawg (my favorite Chicago hot dog restaurant) in Wheeling. Tuesday, after pondering going downtown, we ended up just seeing the Smurfs movie with my dad. Last night, we went to dinner at a nice little Italian restaurant here in Edgebrook. Wednesday was mostly devoted to getting ready for our return trip Thursday morning. The heat and thunderstorms finally subsided -- this might have been the m...
Read more

Summer, Day 8

Today was Memorial Day, and as far as Memorial Days go, this one seemed somewhat anticlimactic. The sun came out after three less-than-stellar days, perhaps preventing the weekend from being a total bust. I worked late last night but was awake earlier than I wanted to be this morning. I fell back asleep and woke up around 10:30 to a thumping sound outside. Michael, Lori and my father-in-law got the rest of the sand in the base of the new basketball hoop, and Michael and his friend from across the street were shooting around. This was Lori's parents' last day in Utah, so we treated them to The Cheesecake Factory at the new City Creek mall downtown. I had the macaroni and cheese burger and most of a piece of Oreo cheesecake (no matter how much I pushed on my sons -- they wanted to share Lori's banana cream cheesecake). The boys and I wandered City Creek a little and came home. The afternoon wasn't much more eventful. Michael and I took Popcorn to the park for about ...
Read more

The Little Red Machine

Image
After blogging about Eldest's baseball experience (as well as mine as an assistant coach), I decided to write about my five years playing organized baseball as a kid. Long ago (the mid-1990s), I wrote about two of these seasons, so I will dig those up and transcribe/edit/add/revise when I post on those two seasons. This post will be about my first season, in 1978 on the Reds. We had moved into our new house in 1977, and my new friends, especially Marc, loved baseball and collected baseball cards. Even before we had moved that spring, I was started to become interested in baseball, so my interest exploded that summer. I had played basketball for two seasons at Norwood Park, so my father signed me up for t-ball in the spring of 1978 and bought me a glove (mass-autographed by Mickey Rivers!). I was placed on the Reds. The team was coached by a couple teenagers, including the older brother of one of my teammates. I don't remember many of my other teammates, except we had a bi...
Read more