So, last night I got one of those strange women urges to start cleaning everything. You know the one, where you tidy a shelf and end up bleaching the entire street.
Last night, it happened in the car.
Every time it comes to cleaning out the car, we same the same thing – “The boys will never eat in here again!” We find mouldy nectarine stones shoved under their car seats, fuzzy lollipop sticks (how is that even possible?) and you don’t want to know what else.
We arrived home from having dinner out at the boys bed time which meant everything had to be done with a certain amount of caution in case we set one of them off crying – when you have children, you get a rude awakening into how fragile a child can be when it comes to them being tired. Tobias sat, bloodshot eyes, staring into space, clutching a book and an empty diet coke bottle I’d given him to entertain him during the journey. Noah was hugging his blanket and had my scarf across his lap in order (according to him) to keep him warm, despite the scorching temperature in our car. He was also staring into space.
We started unpacking the pushchair, baby bag, etc. when I came across the diet coke bottle on the front seat which Babu had obviously launched in a rage at being left second to the pushchair. I took it to our bin, and returned to the car. I glanced into the little side pocket of my door and noticed a couple of receipts, so decided to get rid of them while Ash started unstrapping the boys. I went back again and noticed something sticking out from under Noah’s seat. I reached in and pulled it out; my hand smushed into a sticky, furry lollipop stick. Urgh. It was then that the switch turned on in my head, and I began my woman hunt for more rubbish.
Ash always says that, when it comes to the car, I’m messier than him. Yesterday, I proved that this was not true.
My side pocket, like I said earlier, had a few receipts in it. Ash’s had receipts, chocolate wrappers, orange peal and a light bulb. Yes, that’s right folks; a light bulb. There are no words.
The cup holder section in between our seats was disgusting. The boys had clearly eaten various things over the last week of so, and whatever was left over we’d just popped in there, clicked the lid shut thinking we’d dispose of it later and forgotten all about it. Yesterday, I got a very cruel reminder. I believe I physically gipped. Yack.
I don’t know if it’s just me, but I constantly lose my coats. I found three in the car yesterday. One next the boys on the middle back seat, one in the boot, and one stuffed under the drivers seat. I found Tobias’s missing hat. I found Noah’s missing tie. I found empty wrappers, sticky sweets, a squashed orange … I found, I found, I found; I binned, I binned, I binned.
I wouldn’t mind, but it’s not long since I last did it!
Next task is to vacuum it. That is, when we buy a new hoover. Henry has died, gone from this world to rest in (an extremely clean (carpeted)) heavenly dust-free realm. The funeral was beautiful. My floor is not.