Forget what’s in your wallet. What’s in your car?

I admit I like those “What’s in your wallet?” viking commercials.  I chuckle at the antics those silly fur clad fellows get up to.

That “What’s in your wallet?” question popped into my head as I unloaded the car at the park the other day.  Except it wasn’t what was in my wallet, rather what was in my car.

I have always tried to keep a clean car.  “Tried” being the important word. This summer, however, got the better of me. My embarrassment upon opening up the back of my 10 year old minivan prompted me to make a list. 

So what is in my car?

3 boys’ bicycles.  Yes 3.
3 boys’ helmets.
1 umbrella.
1 fall jacket.  Even though it’s 93 degrees outside.
4 footballs.  Even though I only have 3 boys.
2 soccer balls.
1 rubber chicken.
1 rubber duck.
1 toy mini copper with a giant union jack on it.
1 toodler hoodie.
1 pair of dirty socks.  That happen to be mine, stolen and worn by my eldest son.
1 bionicle.
Ice Age – the movie.
Night at the Museum – the movie.
1 aluminum water bottle.
54 cents.
1 roll of paper towels.
1 wipes bin.
4 pull ups.
1 doggie doo doo bag.
1 doggie leash.  Pink of course.
3 smushed up M&Ms.  Brown, red and yellow.
1 paper airplane.
1 rain poncho.
1 plastic water bottle cap.
Assorted crumbs and bits of unidentifiable food.

And something I can’t quite quantify…the smell of the feet of three little boys and their wet sandals mixed with dog and rubber bike tires.

Oh, and there is a cobweb in the corner.

I used to take such pride in my clean car.  But trudging around with the three kids for bike rides at the park and hikes with the puppy has taken it’s toll on the minivan this summer.  Back to school week means a thorough detailing of my beloved mom mobile.

So, what’s in your car?

One thought on “Forget what’s in your wallet. What’s in your car?

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  1. Empty juiceboxes. Transformer undies. Pink rubber boots. Sun hats. A bag of chicken feed. Gum wrappers, sand toys, notebooks and pens, camera films, and most of all: sand. My dad took the kids to the beach in my van, then offered to vaccuum it out for me; of course, this is after he'd quipped, “There was a sign at the beach asking the person who'd taken all the sand to please return it…I think it might be you”. Haw. Haw. Love the mess of the summer mom-mobile!


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