Washing All the Cars

My hubby is from Michigan. And apparently that means he needs to wash our cars. Like, a lot. They breed serious clean-car pride up there.

This really works out for me because I have two kids in my car all.the.time. and it's messy. And since I'm not from Michigan, I don't care. Messes in cars are losing battles. I choose not to fight losing battles. There will always be more crumbs. And lollipops stuck to leather seats. And milk cups that rolled under the chair and no one bothered to say "heads-up, mom, I dropped my milk cup and it rolled under the chair" so you don't even know it's there until your keen mom sense picks up on the scent of the ounce of unfinished milk that is now gourmet car-cheese. There will always be another mess. Always. Why clean the car if tomorrow I'm going to have to give Hank a yogurt so he stops whining in the back seat and someday in the future someone will say "how did whatever that is {that you never even noticed} get up on the ceiling of your car?" By the way, it's yogurt up there. And this *might* be a true story.

In my opinion, you just don't need to clean your car unless you know someone who might be judgey is going to take a ride and point out the yogurt that spilled UP instead of DOWN to you.

But this, ladies, is why we marry midwestern men. They will just do it for you on the weekend. And also clean their car while they're at it. And insist on involving your darling children so that weird car pride is passed down to the next generation.

So... Clean car. Kids occupied. And all you have to do it take pictures when it starts getting really cute... and then blog about it {because midwestern men love cleaning cars but all the family documenting is up to you, girlfriend}. I think this is a pretty sweet deal.

Spoiler Alert: Henry got really wet. Who's shocked?

Also, Charlie has a waterproof cover over his cast if you're wondering what the blue thing with the really giant thumb-hole is. :)

Once those cute little feet got in the bucket, it was all over. 

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