Zoom, zoom, zoom

My niece was telling me about having to cut fruit snacks out of her 2 year old's hair and it reminded me that there were fruit snacks in the rear of my car that I needed to get out before the weather gets warm and they melt all over the seats. So, I bundled up and went out to the cold garage, on a mission to get dirty sticky Dinos and Fred Flinstones off the back seat of my car.


When I opened the back car door, and saw the disaster in there, I almost fell over! What happened in the back seat of my car? This could not be my car! But it was. I looked at the grubby booster seat that my state mandates for children too big for car seats, yet too little for car seat belts, and I realized that another change had snuck up on me since I became a Grandmother.


Change Number 3 - Bad


My car is no longer cared for. Now, I am not talking footprints, or a little kid traffic mess. It was full blown neglected and I could literally calculate my resale value as it spiraled downward. Even worse, the car is only 6 months old.


I think I stopped taking care of it when the booster seats went in. I didn't even stretch out a beach towel on the upholstery before I toggled the child seats. I was in Grandmother mode, so all I cared about was that I was going to pick up my grands, not caring a lick about the new car. This is a bad change, and I had to nip it in the bud. 


First, I scraped out the fruit snacks, fished out the french fries, and gathered up the candy, ice cream, and Happy Toy wrappers, and tossed it all into the trash.The empty, smashed up juice boxes went into the recycle bin with the little chocolate milk jugs and soda cups with straws. Then, I collected the Happy Toys, Legos, and Junior Spy paraphernalia, and tossed them into a sink of hot water and antibacterial soap. I swear there was chewed up chicken nugget crammed into the back of some of the Legos. This find actually made me gag a little.


Then, I tenderly washed down the surfaces full of sticky prints and germs, polished the window glass, scrubbed the seats, and vacuumed the floor, all while apologizing profusely to my car for neglecting her.


You laugh, but I am from Michigan. Our cars are like members of our family. We love them and care for them for fear they will conk out on us the day we are running late for the dentist in a blizzard. We protect them from abuse, like we protect our children, and I had failed my four wheeled girl. Before grandchildren, this would never have happened. So, I made amends and set things straight between me and my dependable SUV. Zoom, zoom, zoom.


My car is clean again. I have an old beach towel under the booster seats, a bag for litter, and a new rule: No More Eating In Gran's Car. No more fruit snacks, juice boxes, or chicken nuggets. Any toys left in the car will be added to the basket filled with Gran and Papa's toys. No one dares take a toy out of that basket home with them! Well, actually one of them does try, but that is another story, for another day.