I think we’ll all float on okay
I got stuck in the car wash the other day.
And by stuck, I mean I waited for 15 minutes before reaching the bay, my stomach audibly reminded me it was past lunchtime, my podcast was only a few minutes in, and those sprayers barely spritzed my undercarriage. Yes—I get the double meaning. But I live in the Midwest and there was enough dried salt on my black minivan to make it look like an ashy sort of white. Writing “wash me” wasn’t enough for this poor vehicle—“Help me, I’m about to rust” was more like it.
You can imagine my shock when the sprayers stopped mid-soak. I stopped and restarted my podcast as if that would restart the car wash. “Hey Siri, can you turn on the car wash?”
“Sorry, I didn’t find “car wash” in your contacts.”
Incredibly helpful, Siri. I waited a minute, or more likely the longest 30 seconds of my life, to climb out of my seat. At this point, it’s now 12:45 PM and I need to go eat lunch before preschool pick-up. I tip-toe out of the car wash bay, sticking close to the car. I didn’t want to end up like the ugly stepsisters from A Cinderella Story where Hillary Duff played Cinderella. If only my godmother would show up and make my pumpkin into a carriage again.
Fun fact: customer service and I don’t get along. I’m not fussy at all, but if I have to be, I feel like I run my mouth off a bit much. “You see sir, I have to get lunch because I’m starving and then I have to go get my son at preschool…just… how long…willthistake?”
The older gentleman, who, ironically, wore a bright orange shirt with the words “ASK ME HOW YOU CAN GET UNLIMITED CAR WASHES”, sighed. He didn’t know how to answer this starving mom who simply wanted to check off an item on her to-do list Apparently, the power to the whole block shut off on a perfectly sunny day with no rhyme, reason, or any news going which way.
He wrote my name and license plate number in a wrinkled spiral-bound notebook. And that was the end. I was expected to float on by as if nothing happened.
Now my ashy car had new black racing stripes from the undercarriage sprayers. The to-do list box for “get a car wash” remained open on my planner. Alright, I’ll float on okay…after spending $13 for wasted time on my podcast, a rushed schedule, a growling stomach, and a partially washed undercarriage. Cool.
I raced home, ate some semblance of lunch, and sighed at my list. I’m as stalled as the sprayers from the car wash bay. Instead, I let it go, grabbed my keys, and proceeded to pick up my preschooler. From there, the day floated on in its typical manner between nap time, elementary school pick-up, snacks, and chatting. Once I had all three of my kids at home and they placed their backpacks and school notes away, I thought it’d be a great time to ask the question.
“Hey—I know you just got home and it’s almost dinner time, but can we go finish this car wash business?”
They gave me a collective shrug. I mouthed a thank you.
I didn’t completely understand why I attempted this again. Couldn’t it just wait until tomorrow? But, ever the completionist, I wanted to check this off. Clearly, the car wasn’t the only thing that needed help.
Ultimately, I didn’t end up with unlimited car washes—just a “free” code for my next go-around. I also had to wait another 20 minutes! But I looked over my shoulder. I saw three faces that were sitting in the middle of the most mundane chore—fully present. Modest Mouse played through the speakers.
