So, over the weekend, I finally took the plunge . . . and washed my own car.
So what if its already been six months since I left my parents house? I mean doesn’t everyone just spray the windscreen and make peeps holes to see out of the dirt too?
Believe me this was a tough call – it was only because I was beginning to forget what colour my little ellie is that I thought it was time to take the plunge. That however doesn’t mean that I didn’t think of conjoling my dad with beer and a meal to get him to come down and wash it for me . . .I mean don’t fathers just live for that stuff? Washing incredibly dirty little italian cars. I mean if I was a dad (and in this case phew I’m not) I would love that. Life’s work.
Therefore with my little girl shiny again and first washings having been completed i’ve penciled in our next cleaning date in my diary, August 4th ok with you, girlie? Great. Can’t have her getting used to this clean malarkey now can we?