For him, it's like "running by" the Brazilian consulate. Getting someone a passport. You know, just "easy" things like that.
So I shouldn't have been surprised when he went on ahead and asked me at the last minute to have his car washed by the end of the day- putting that in the "little favor" category.
Which wouldn't be a big deal at. Really, all of the above wouldn't be too difficult. ....if I didn't have four kids in tow.
After minimal huffing and puffing and absolutely no commitment, I told him I'd see what I could do.
But there's something about having a husband that doesn't ask much of you that makes you feel like you have to go to the end of the world to do whatever it is he does ask.
But honestly, this whole car washing business by the end of the day- the request was given at 4:30- had me in a bit of a pickle. I won't take the time to explain it to you because I would hate to imagine you all looking at me with blank, un-sympathetic eyes as I explained my pickle. But please do believe that in my mind... it was a pickle I was in.
After driving to the car wash and seeing the line I would have to endure, I made the game time decision to just go home. But that game time decision came with the need to finally put on my big girl panties. I was gonna have to give this car a home-made rub down. I know, I know.....shocking.
And as long as I was being all pioneer-esq and doing something I had NEVER done before, I went the extra mile....and decided to have the kids join in on this FUN. Because-- I don't know for sure-- but I have a feeling that reeeaaalllly good moms have their kids present for these kind of activities.
So there we all were, doing very novice wax-on wax-off type motions. And the excitement was strong enough that I could almost hear my mom thinking aloud, "Oh perfect, you think this is fun? Not work? I wonder how long this is gonna last." But here's the problem. I AM the mom. And I SHOULD be doing this type of work. And as with all children's work intrigue, we know this type of excitement has a very short shelf life. Dang it, Yosh, if only we could bottle it up... I'd be saving you $11.99+ tip a month.
Because I was just DYING for Yosh to show up and stumble up on us giggling and playing and CLEANING his car. Because make no mistake in knowing that when Yosh asked me to wash his car, it would have never crossed his mind that I....I....would actually wash his car. I mean come on, the boy knows....I'm not crafty, I'm not guarantying a home-cooked meal for this family of ours, I don't roll up sleeping bags (except I did for the first time this year!), I'm only a picker-upper, I don't clean my own bathrooms....
Now I know what you're thinking right now. And at this point I would like to go on ahead and ask you to keep your thoughts to yourself. Because we would HATE for Yosh to know....that he got the short end of the stick.
But do know that he never thought that my hands would be the ones cleaning his car.
So, anyways, we're all- the kids and I- living in the same fantasy world where Yosh shows up and catches us doing something AWESOME. But this was never in the cards. We finish way before he gets home.
So I can only assume that he pulled up, looked at the botched final project- complete with water marks and all, shook his head at the crappy job our local car wash does time after time, and then went on with his life.
Don't worry we sold ourselves out. Took all the credit and were rewarded with...a firm nod of approval.
Worth all the blood, sweat, and tears.
PS If you do decide to give Yosh a head's up about my short comings, will you also let him know that word on the street is that I'm real fun? Not like on the streets streets. Just on the streets of my friends. Or maybe just tell him my friends said that.
And also, I'll have you know when Yosh walked through the door, a hot-off-the-grill dinner was waiting for him.