Today the girls and I went out front to wash the car, which was a lot more exciting than it should have been. First, there were bugs out there, which means the little one was practically hysterical, as she becomes at the sight of any flying insect. Literally trembling with fear, clutching her smoothie to her chest as if it were a protective shield. So, I set her up inside watching a movie (this week it is Brother Bear, which I enjoy overhearing because it has these two moose characters, voiced by the guys from Strange Brew—hilarious in their exaggerated Canadian accents).
I went back to washing the car only to hear a shriek followed by a wail inside. Turns out there was a fly in the house. So, after chasing it down and swatting it from the air in mid-flight with a leap from a chair (I’m sure it would have been funny to see, but I was quite proud of my fly-swatting skills), she calmed down enough to rejoin us outside.
I hosed down the car again (it had dried while I was inside), inadvertently hosing down the girls as well (I’d only told them three times to back up, and it takes a good 13 times to get through to them in the post-lunch wind-down). In the course of fleeing from the spray of water, they realized they were making footprints up and down the driveway, so this became the game: stomping out little trails and patterns, watching them dry in the warm afternoon sun, then jumping in puddles to make new footprints.
I finished rinsing the car just as I was losing control of the kids, their game of rock collecting taking them a little too far away from me and a little too close to traffic. I lured them back inside with promises of mango and edamame. After their snack, I put them down for naps, which, amazingly, they took without complaint. I tossed our soaking wet clothes into the washer and had a solid quiet hour to read a book. I’m thinking of washing the car again tomorrow.