car wash

I thought I struck gold when I went to get the car washed and found out that it was a Thursday special and I could get the deluxe #8 for the same price as a basic #1! Yes, please, one deluxe #8. And a bolle for the little girl. We will cozy up in the car, listen to our favorite music, nibble on a bolle, and enjoy a little car washing. What I struck was not gold, but rather entrapment. A terrified toddler screaming "no, no!" and begging "finish! finish!" as the contraption encircled our car with spraying water, flapping brushes and foaming soap. I apparently have broken rule #1 of parenting. Never torture your own child with the things that tortured you as a child. As I saw fear come over Charlotte, I quickly recalled my car wash fear as a child, and how I tried to get out of my seat belt and huddle under the glove compartment to escape the scariness. Now I have to repair my broken heart for scaring my little girl, and repair her faith that Mamma can be trusted. My conscience may not be clean, but the car sure is!