spring cleaning the car made me feel like I’m 87 years old.

The weather here finally realized that it’s okay to do something other than offer rain/ sleet/ snow/ ice.

It got up to 76 today!

I was of course wearing jeans as we drove from one store to the next, and since part of our new healthy-living plan is parking far away from the store and getting some good hiking walking in, I was miserable.

After we got tired of trudging around carrying the girls, we went home and I decided that being exhausted meant we should do more work, so I coerced asked Terry to help me clean the Mazda.

Now, we didn’t just clean off the car and we didn’t just throw trash out that we found inside.  No, we removed the middle seats, took out every toy, and then proceeded to vacuum, windex and wipe off every inch of the inside of the car.

We power-washed the floor mats.  We reorganized the 800 toys.  We refilled the washer fluid.  We made the trunk look as though no one had ever stored bodies firewood in there.

Then, because we’re gluttons for punishment, we washed the outside of the car.  However, because we suck, the car needs to be washed at a car wash because it is still disgustingly dirty from winter mud.

Eventually, it was over.  The car was clean, closed and admired.  We sat together, griping over our aches from walking and cleaning all day, because apparently we’re in our 80s, not our 20s.

Now we are relaxing to the tune of City Slickers.  Oh, how envious you must be of a day in the life of parents!

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