Editor’s Note: This is an occasional in a series of Four Courses blog posts that have nothing to with food, but have to do with everything else. Well, they could fall under the category of “place” or “talk” which are two of the courses. If you don’t like this turn of events, keep reading. If you do like it, keep reading. The blogger may choose to throw in a foodie tid-bit regardless of the topic. Grab a glass of wine, enjoy.
Yesterday evening my kids – 5-year-old girl and 3-year-old
boy – demanded to wash the car.
Demanded. I had no
idea what kind of production it was going to be, but I’ve been meaning to get
the car washed for six months so I went with it. I am happy to report that it was a seamless operation
that bordered on joyful with a hint of deep euphoria (on my part).
I like to outsource everything and cannot remember the last
time I washed a car. It may have
been in the early 80s. I’m not
kidding. My brother and I used to
wash our family car every week with a bucket of soap water made from Tide
detergent. That’s right
folks: our family Datsun was
washed with Tide powder detergent and kitchen sponges. We’d let the water run endlessly,
completely unaware of the words “waste” or “water bill”, as we lathered up the
car and spent way too long hosing it down. I just have two words for this memory: good times.
I don’t know what it is about washing the family car with
your sibling(s) but it’s fun. I
don’t remember having conversations with my brother during the washing of the
car; just working and feeling as if we were doing something important
together. It was the family’s mode
of transport, after all. And we
lived in Houston, Texas, where you cannot go anywhere except down the block
without a car.
And I saw all of this in my kids yesterday. My daughter wanted solely to be
responsible for the wheels (who takes the wheels??), my son wanted to wash the windows he
could not reach. They took responsibility with pure relish and
anticipation. It was a good moment.
I am prone sometimes to say no to them, fearing that a task
would take too long and wouldn’t it just be easier if I did it myself? Sure, of course. But deprive them of this pleasure? Not take advantage of free child
labor? Cross your fingers they
demand to wash the car next week.
About the photos: When we came to America, my dad would take pictures of
everything and everyone, and I have inherited this practice from him. Some of his photos, however, are downright goofy. For example, we would be at Sears and
he would ask me to stand in front of a mannequin. That was it.
That was the photo. Why? I have no idea. So we have all these photos of my
brother and me with and in our various cars. We look incredibly badass in the photos but they are now
hilarious. In the photos here, I’m assuming my dad
said, “Hey kid, pose with the Datsun!” And I chose that particular pose. I know it's a lot to take in.
 |
| Another awesome pose with the Datsun. |
What I was eating at the time: Are you ready to
be horrified? Good. Here we go: During this period of washing cars in my life, I loved ketchup sandwiches. I would take two pieces of Wonder bread and spread ketchup
in the middle. And if I was really
hungry, I would slip in a slice of American cheese. Sigh. Is there anything better than processed cheese? Yeah,
I know there is, but still. I was
a latch-key kid if that helps to explain anything.
Happy eating and living, everyone. And remember:
do not wash your car with Tide powder detergent.
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