I love my car. It’s one of the first purchases I made when I came back from travelling. One of the first real “roots” I had put down in years – I have debt therefore I belong. Well, to the bank anyway.

But winter’s made me a bad car mom. I’d like to blame it on the regular impromptu downpours we have that leave your car looking like it’s been shat on by a flock of rabbits in flight. But really, the short days have just made me trés lazy.

So, and I’m abashed to say it, my car came close to being one of those people join the dirty brown dots on to spell out uninspired messages meant to guilt-trip the owner into washing it.


Until one day…

I walked out of my door, only to be met by a car that appeared to have just rolled out of a car wash. And not just the wash-and-go kind of car wash. I’m talking the proper elbow-grease-was-put-in-here kind. I stood there admiring its sheer sparkliness.

And then the confusion set in.

How had this immaculate car come to be? Had I been paid a visit by the more than generous “Wash & Glow” fairy? Did some Good Samaritan take pity on my dusty ride? Had an obsessive-compulsive neighbour finally cracked (kind of like the guy who mowed my lawn that one time)?


I wasn’t imagining it. All the signs that it had been freshly bathed were there. The brown swamp-like puddles making islands of my tires. The last of the soapy bubbles being swallowed by the street’s gutter. Someone had most definitely given my car a good once-over. But that someone was no longer there.

It was one of those days that wouldn’t allow me to contemplate my good fortune. I was in a hurry. And whatever it was that I had to do obviously couldn’t wait because, despite my delight at my car’s just-like-new lustre, I can’t remember giving it another thought.

And then…

A couple of days after the mysterious makeover, my husband came home from work and asked me if I had recently requested the services of the (previously mentioned) ‘misfit youths’ to wash my car?

“No,” came my honest reply. “Why?”

“Well, I’ve just bumped into our neighbour from next door. She’s a bit pissed off with the kids.

They asked if they could wash her car a few days ago to make money to go to the movies. So she gave them the soap and rags and everything. They were out there for a couple of hours and then they returned her stuff and collected their money.

The thing is, when she went outside a little later to check it, it was still dirty. The little buggers hadn’t done a thing except throw water and soap around. Apparently there was a big dirty puddle in front of her car, but that was it. I don’t think we should use them anymore…”

And suddenly, it all fell into place…