Jon is frequently horrified by the state of my car. It’s filthy. Even in the best circumstances, the back is packed for a light camping trip. And that’s when I’m not actually in it, going somewhere.
I have to defend my own honor and say that I am not at all a messy car person. I like things very tidy and clean, if at all possible. But, I’m a mom of 5-year-old twins living their best lives, and so, it is not possible.
We go swimming. We play in sand. We get sand all over us and then rinse off and then somehow get sand all over us again on the way to the car. We try to rinse the sand off with the dregs of lukewarm water from our water bottles, but it’s never enough. We peel off our muddy, sandy, wet bathing suits and throw them on the floor of the car, on top of the pile of toys we insisted on bringing to the river. You never know when you might need a giant plastic slinky (thanks, Rhonda, for the gift that keeps on giving). Then, we stamp our feet all over the seat-back in front of us.
Then there are the toys we dangle out the window of the car when Mama isn’t looking. (I caught them hanging plastic squirter thingies out the window the other day and warned them that if they dropped the thingies, the thingies were gone. A minute later, Eliza dropped the thingie and begged me to stop and turn around. I declined and kept driving. She sobbed. Tough love, people! Also, littering.)
We eat in the car. It’s a bad idea, but it’s how we manage to get convinced to get in the car in the first place, half the time. Then we jam our half-eaten baggie of DIY peanut-butter cookies in the door handle and forget about it. We also forget we snuck a bunch of crayons in the car to leave them scattered around in the hot sun until they melt all over the upholstery.
It’s a wonder we get anywhere and back in one piece, frankly. Keeping the crumbs off the car seat is not a priority for me. By the time I make the 17 requisite trips to carry everything in from the car that might spoil, rot, melt, explode, or mildew, I’m done.
Sorry to everyone I judged for having a filthy car, before I had kids of my own.
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What I’m reading:
Study of 17 Million Identifies Crucial Risk Factors for Coronavirus Deaths in the New York Times — not surprisingly, ethnicity plays a huge part in who is at most risk for dying from COVID-19. And it’s not genetic.
We Can’t Let Parents and Teachers Be Pitted Against Each Other In Debate Over School Reopenings on Medium. The subhead says it all here: We have been presented with unacceptable choices by a society that doesn’t value children or working families.
Bookwise, I finished How to Be an Antiracist and read 118 pages of The Dutch House in one sitting. Phew, I needed a novel!
This list has been making the rounds and relieving some of my existential angst about reading my mail and unloading groceries. Also, as a bonus, us introverts are finally absolved from ever going to a bar, amusement park, or sports stadium again. In fact, in that red zone you can read about many of my least favorite activities of all time. Unfortunately, it also includes the movies — something I really miss.
What I’m watching:
A few friends sent me this wonderful New York Times online piece called Behold Vermont, From Above. I was really surprised to see the New York Times capitalize a preposition in a title. That’s not the point. The point is the beauty of Vermont in these stunning photographs.
What I’m eating:
farm stand bounty
and garden spoils
What I’m working on:
For Box: Work Unleashed: Dubai Airports innovates aviation on the fly
