My car is full of junk. It is crammed full of all sorts of stuff. Things, items, knick-knacks, they are all in there. I need to do something about it, like call the Wonder Pets…What is gonna work? Teamwork!
The crap in the car is stressing me out. I keep pulling more things out and yet it feels like a bottomless pit. Apparently I have stumbled onto a secret hiding place for children’s toys. It is like the secret elephant burial ground. I can’t believe the things that the kids have stowed away. Any time now I am going to find my old metal Bionic Man lunch box because I just know that they have buried it in between the seats.
This is not fun. I am not supposed to have the clown car of junk. I clean this sucker out once a week so that this does not happen. Yet somehow the items migrate back in. Part of the problem is that there is a basket full of work materials that has to stay in the car. It is part of the challenge of having multiple offices.
It is a little embarrassing to see this much come flying out of it, but then again maybe I should be impressed. Maybe I should be happy that so much can be stored in this vehicle. Maybe I should write Honda some sort of testimonial letter. Then again, maybe not.
All I know is that the theme from Sanford and Son seems to come on every time I open the door. I’d write more, but it seems that Lamont is here and in need of my assistance. You’ll excuse me while I get back to work.
Outwardly, I espouse the POV that my messy truck, house and life is a symptom of the harried life I’m leading and that nothing can be done about it but
I secretly envy people like Debbie…
DB looked at me today and said, “Wow Mommy you cleaned the car.” Then I informed him that I just moved all the stuff from his seat to the passenger front seat. “Maybe you can sell it instead of cleaning it.”
Orie,
My car is bad enough, but the Odyssey is even more frightening.
Debbie,
So if ever we decide to try and make you crazy all I have to do is send my kids to your house for about ten minutes. 😉
I can’t stand a messy car (or house, or anything) I’m a neat-freak. When I get out of the car I take everything with me, even a chewing gum wrapper.
Sounds like your car and my car might be related. I rarely look in the back because it scares me. I used to make a joke that if a hurricane came and destroyed our house we could live in the car because Little Orieyenta has stored so much food, drinks and toys back there. But I’m thinking it’s no joke.