[shitwit]

About a month and a half ago I brought the car with the lil' shitwits in it to the carwash. I didn't know how they'd react to it since it was their first time riding thru the carwash (awake, anyway). I was worried that lil'shitwit #1 would freak out and have a horrible flashback to when we were in a bad car accident last year (the kid is totally traumatized, and gets all spooked even if I hit a pothole) with all the loud swooshing, and the brushes thumping the car and the water jets pelting the windshield. I was afraid that lil'shitwit #2 would start screaming due to the noise too and then get #1 even more worked up. So I tried to think of the most positive and interesting way to romance the idea of going thru the carwash so that the two of them would actually enjoy it. I knew this wasn't going to be easy since I, myself, would absolutely go insane in the carwash when I was #1's age. I didn't have much hope of getting out of there with 2 kids not in hysterics. So, since the main reason for taking the car to the carwash was to get all the birdshit off the car I decided to take the path of honesty and just tell #1 that's why we were there. I explained that the birds pooped every time they flew out of their nest and mommy's car was parked right under that tree where the birds live. And mommy was tired of looking at white poop all over her blue car, so it was time for a carwash! We'd been trying for so long to get #1 to use the potty (with no success at all) so everything we talked about seemed to be centered on pooping and appropriate places to poop. So the trip to the carwash also involved poop. For hours before we were even at the carwash #1 talked about the poop on the car. "Mommy, why did the birds poop on your car?" "Mommy, do birds use the potty?" "Mommy, why is bird poop white?" "Mommy, I see poopy on my window" "Mommy, can I poop on your car?" "Mommy, I put poop on your window. Look, it's white." I did my best to answer his questions honestly and factually, and try to keep the budding scat freak from rearing its ugly head. He really was very well behaved, even if he told the cashier at the grocery check-out that we were headed to the carwash to clean the bird poop off mommy's car. So with confidence, I made my way to the carwash, hoping he'd enjoy the ride.

We arrive at the Golden Nozzle, and naturally there's a line of about 6 cars waiting to get cleaned. I get in line and pay the gal for the carwash. It was kinda warm that day so I had the windows down a little. #1 sat calmly and quietly in his carseat, #2 slept peacefully in his carseat. This was going to be a breeze.

Really, I don't know what I was thinking. The car was full of groceries, it was warm out, the line seemed to not move at all, and we were barracaded in so there was no escaping. Then, as if on cue, the baby starts to cry. He's fussing and grunting and I can hear the poop explosion taking place in his diaper even over the din of the carwash machinery and the stereo of the teeny-bopper 3 cars behind us. The smell makes its way to the front of the car, and his screaming escalates. This baby hates having poop in his diaper, even just a little shart pisses him off. I couldn't exactly get out of the car and change him just then, and the line finally moved ahead so I needed to be at the wheel and ready to go. I tried my best to calm him down from the driver's seat (which, every parent realizes is totally useless to do, but we do it anyway). The line moves on and we are next in the cue. I'm telling myself to keep calm, the kids will pick up any anxiety in my voice. So far #1 is eagerly awaiting the exciting carwash experience. The track guide is lined up with my tires and I remember the release the parking brake, I feel the thump of the track grabbing the tires, we're going in!

Just seconds before the first of the flaps was getting ready to smack my front license plate off the bumper, I hear someone screaming to me. "Hey lady! Roll up your windows!!" Oh, shit! I completely forgot about that detail. Okay, let's get something straight. Normally I'm not a ditzy broad and am actually a very good driver. But on this day some details got overlooked, and the windows was one of them. I quickly hit the buttons to get the windows up, just as the water was pelting the hood. I looked behind me to see how #1 was doing. He was totally still, wide-eyed, and staring out the window, sucking his thumb so hard I thought he'd lose the nail. #2 was still screaming. My blood pressure started to jump as the whooshing and thumping got more intense and we could no longer see the light of day, since #1 is also petrified of the dark. I turned the dome light on to calm him down. He still hadn't moved much. The stench seeping out of the diaper, along with its contents was becoming unbearable and I was feeling like I'd gag soon. The instant I was thinking I might hurl, #1 began to whimper. "Mommy, I'm scared, I don't like it, turn it off, I want to go home, it's breaking the car, I want Daddy, this place is bad!" I couldn't say much at that point. I wanted out just as badly as the kids did.

The spooky ride of hell was coming to and end. "Look, here's the sunshine. It's OK. Mommy's car is all clean now." We can go home soon. I pulled ahead the moment the tires were freed from the track. I drove up to the vacuums to quickly hit the floor mats and get the hell home. I figured the vacuums would make the kids just as upset as the rest of the ride so why not just do the floor mats too, they're already screaming anyway. What a mean mommy. I finished the floor mats in record time and hopped back in. I opened the windows and breathed a sigh of releaf. Miraculously, both kids stopped bawling.

I looked in the rearview mirror at #1. "How did you like the carwash?" He looked at me with his innocent wide-eyes and asked me in a voice so tenderly: "Mommy, where's the bird poop?" "It's all gone, down the drain, mommy's car is all clean now." He blinked, then said with a straight face: "I'm sorry about your car, Mommy, but birds need a place to poop."

[daphne]

Nice buildup! Yes, birds need a place to poop, too.

I remember the first time I went through a carwash. Everything it was great. the rocking of the car, the slap-slap of the giant blue fabric strips, and the noise. I loved all of it. I was 17 years old. My parents would not use carwashes because they said they ruined the paint job, so senior year my boyfriend took me through the car wash to get his P.O.S. cleaned up.

I didn't try Spam until I was in my thirties. It's just weird how normal things for other people were mysteries to me!

[in the bushes]

Great story!