[advert:mpu]Last weekend my gorgeous niece came to visit for the afternoon. We all had a great time together. Sophie decided she was having such a fab time she wanted to stay for dinner.
My husband gave her a lift home. As she entered our car in a tone of some disgust, she said "this is much dirtier than our car.” Avi looked on bemused and a touch embarrassed. I on the other hand had seen this coming. Just the other week Barney’s six-year-old friend sat in our car, raised her nostrils into Bisto Kid position, sniffed and announced “what is that smell?”
Of course then there is always that ‘moment’. The one when you find yourself opening your mouth and the words spilling out “ would you like a lift?” The last time this happened I spent the first five minutes apologizing for the mess ( I didn’t have the courage to even bring up the subject of smell), whilst busily clearing the front seat area to enable a human being to be able to sit there.
Once I had gotten to the bottom of random items of clothing, discarded homework, items to go to the dry cleaner (note last season’s clothes – time in front of car – unknown), I found what even disgusted me – a squished banana. I mumbled something about spilt water, wet seat and quickly covered the seat with a towel. Oh what fun we had…
Despite all this I do like to think that having a disgusting car, with surround–sound detritus adds a certain je ne sais qoie to our bog-standard Renault Grand Scenic.
I know that I am equipped for nearly every occasion. If it’s wellies you want – no problem. Sunglasses, pants, socks, nappies (clean), wipes, toys – easy. Pens, sellotape, random birthday presents – sorry you are not trying hard enough. There are not many things you can catch me out on. Apple cores, humzinger wrappers, bottles of water, corn crackers in every state of cracking, school artworks (months old - never made it into the house). In fact if I really tried hard enough I could probably find their birth certificates, the missing key to the cabinet, and the Steven Gerrard Man of the Match card.
Come on set me a challenge, I’m ready. Well almost, just don’t ask me to actually clean the damn thing.
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