We have a pretty efficient and established method of unpacking the car when our family returns home from a trip. Seemingly before he has even cut the engine in our driveway, Dan has hauled our luggage into the house and straight to the correct traveler’s bedroom. This is followed by the unloading of our backseat cooler’s remaining drinks and snacks. I collect and organize all our car trip “stuff” from inside the vehicle and assign items to our children with instructions for putting it away in the house and to “come right back for more.” Child car seats are pulled out and given a good shake. Any loose garbage is gathered into a plastic bag to toss right away, and then a once over the entire vehicle for any remaining miscellany. Lock the doors, close the garage, and say goodnight. As I drift to sleep, I smile thinking of the next morning when I will set about a thorough post-trip cleaning of the Routan, inside and out.
By 10:00am I’ve got out my Shop-Vac. I’m attaching the crevice tool. Windex in hand and trigger finger itching to tackle the windows and mirrors. But first come the suds. I disappear briefly around the side of the house to drag out the garden hose, and the children materialize on the driveway (it’s as if they have hose radar). “Can we help wash the car?”
There’s something extra satisfying about cleaning a new car. All of us battling the dirt, road grime and flattened bugs smeared on the hood, and anticipating the Routan’s pre-trip polished blackness awaiting us underneath.
When the exterior is gleaming, I move inside to vacuum and wipe down the entire interior. It is gratifying work. Everything looks clean and fresh, but deep inside I know that with each swipe of my cloth, I am merely (vainly?) fighting the inevitability that one day my rockin’ Routan ride will no longer pass as brand new.
At what point does it start to lose that luster?
Perhaps you get caught up in life and you neglect to clean or vacuum the car for a few weeks. Maybe it happens to be during winter road salt season, or in early spring when the ground outside is soft and muddy. (I’m actually gritting my teeth at the thought of this slop invading my spotless Routan.) Maybe you just don’t have the chance to clean up a spilled drink or melted bit of chocolate right away and it goes forgotten for days until the stain is set. (I’m cringing, but we all know it happens.) You can’t say for sure when that day will come, or how long it will be before you realize for the first time that it just doesn’t have that new car glow any more.
Well, not in this car.
An illustration from our recent trip:
After a quick break at a rest stop for fuel, food, and facilities, I handed over driving duty to Dan and climbed into the “stewardess” seat. As we pulled out of the parking lot, the girls excitedly pulled open their Happy Meals back in the third row seat. We had just barely made it to the top of the entrance ramp from the rest stop back onto the interstate when a small voice from the rear piped up. “Mom, I spilled my drink and I can’t reach it.” Now I knew she ordered Sprite which, at least, is clear…but it is still sticky…and wet. Steam began pouring from my ears mere seconds before my head exploded. (Well, almost.) I smacked Dan on the thigh and yelled, “Pull over!” Knowing better than to argue or question what I have in mind, he immediately complied. (Wise man.) With a tractor-trailer chugging up the ramp behind us, I threw open my door, grabbed the roll of paper towels and box of wet wipes (conveniently stowed under the passenger seat) and raced to the rear lift gate which Dan had already opened automatically with a push of a button from the driver’s seat (can I say just one more time how cool that is?!). In less than 30 seconds, I blotted up the Sprite with a handful of paper towel, completed a quick wipe down of the side panel where some of the pop had splashed, replaced the cup in the hands of the child with swift admonishment, pressed the button to close the trunk, and dove back into the front seat. Dan re-entered highway traffic without a word. I breathed a long, satisfied breath.
Sticky, icky, dirty, grimy mess in the new Routan?
Oh, no. Not in this car.
Meg – 1, Spilled Drink – 0.
It doesn't really have to do with the post I'm leaving this comment on, but I wanted to say hi to the woman who was driving this van today on I80 going east through Indiana. I was in the dark blue Dodge Intrepid, and you followed me for about 100 miles. At first I thought you were pissed at me for some reason, but as the miles kept going by, I realized that no, you were just trailing me :-) Thanks for waving as you went by when I had to stop for a potty break! Cheers
ReplyDeleteI always thought my brother was a man, until he told me he was driving a minivan. Any thought of man hood went right out the window. Until I saw the Routan. I'll admit it, for a "minivan" it is pretty sweet. It seems more like a rolling hotel room. You still have some man hood left brother.
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