Wednesday, May 27, 2009
It is against my better judgement to write this, but in a fit of frustration regarding the condition of the vans interior, I sent the kids outside to clean my car. It was their trash, their water bottles, their crunched up snacks--not to mention their socks, shoes, papers, and clothing.
I had had enough of cleaning it all by myself.
Imagine my shock (and Dad, today is not the day I would want you to start reading my blog) when The Girl came running into the house with a panic stricken look on her face saying "I promise, I will NEVER eat in the car again! Please don't be mad."
In the time span of about two seconds I had a myriad of possibilities swimming through my head, but when she said, "The Boy found a pile of little white worms eating the crumbs on the floor!" wasn't one of them.
Then, as my mind tried to comprehend the problem at hand, she started a cry that would surely have won her an Oscar.
Being ever so compassionate, I told her we hadn't any time for hysterics. We have a matinee to get to in just over two hours and I wasn't driving in a Maggot Mobile.
They had to clean it. And quick.
So there you have it. I am mean, and the kids are outside frantically vacuuming the car and making it all clean....and bug free.