Thursday, October 14, 2010

Proud of the Minivan

I deep-cleaned our minivan yesterday.

For three and a half hours.

And I didn't even finish.

I superficially deep-cleaned it about two months ago. But, two months apparently, for a minivan carrying four young children, is like 10 years, (similar to how the age of a dog is calculated).

My older kids always sit in the back, and I never go back there. It was disgusting. There was hardened, oozed gogurt - still a bright, cheerful pink color; cups previously emptied of a spinach smoothie ingested quickly on the way to a soccer game; pieces of every single kind of chip, pretzel, cracker, bread. Sand. Lots of sand. Wrappers, unused small papers, ripped up and left there for... some reason.

But, I wasn't annoyed at my children. I wasn't furious. I wasn't resentful. All I could think about, over and over again, was: how much do they charge to do this professionally? $50? $100? $200? Would that be worth it?

A side note: my husband doesn't allow food or dirt in his car. He offers this as the solution to keeping my minivan clean.

Another side note: I love Resolve Carpet Cleaner now, more than ever.
Professional Resolve Spot & Stain Carpet Cleaner, 22 Oz.
A neighbor  went walking by. A friendly, chatting one. I cringed and thought: he might see what we've been driving in, or I mean, living in. I ducked. I vacuumed in a frenzy while he went around the circle at the end of the street. I knew he'd be stopping by to chat on his way back. He did.

The minivan is now gorgeous, and the best part is: my kids love it. This morning I told them that next time they are going to be cleaning the back all by themselves. They said, "No, Mom. Don't worry. We are never going to eat food in here again. It looks so good." They seemed so happy and proud of it.

We'll see how long that lasts.

1 comment:

Jamie Lamb said...

This is so funny. We are the exact opposite here. My husband's car is a disaster, and I have a spotless minivan. (It's because I'm a barbarian and he's not.) My kids hate driving in his car, they call it "Daddy's stinky car". Instead of Go-gurts and sand, he has cafeteria food, surgical masks, junk mail, dirty scrubs...
I call it "Daddy's stinky car" too.