I cleaned out my minivan today. Cleaning seems to be a recurrent theme in my blog postings as of late. It happened really out of self-preservation, though. I was so embarrassed for someone to see the inside, and things had started to fall out when I opened the doors. Things like empty water bottles, shoes, a bar of soap. I wish I were kidding about that bar of soap. I was also beginning to feel that a family of raccoons may be living in the dark depths of my vehicle, sustained solely on nasty food that they would ordinarily find in a dumpster.
I did it, though. I pulled my steed over to the dumpster and commenced the dumping. Spencer helped me to identify things which seemed unrecognizable to me, yet to him were easily recalled. I quit asking what things were when he identified chicken bones. I don't know when we ate fried chicken, and I certainly don't remember eating it in the car. After I had gotten out all of the largest pieces of trash I began using Windex and a rag.
That's when I found the unidentifiable goop. In the rear cup-holders there was a substance that was sticky, green, and had a faint (not unpleasant) odor. What was it? What had this goop been in its life before putrification? I'll probably never know. I theorize that it may have been soda in a McDonald's cup (thank you Nancy).
I persevered and made it through to the vacuuming stage. This is the part where you can really take out your aggressions. Aerobic vacuuming, we'll call it. I took out all of my anger at the nastiness that had occurred in my van. I took out my anger that my van has been abused by child, husband, and dog.
Then I stepped back and felt pleased. This is my van. It is clean and shiny and I made that happen.
And, I am NEVER letting anyone eat in my trusty van again.