Car washing the kid

Aug 31, 2010

My mom didn’t want me to write this post. She actually begged  demanded  scolded asked me nicely not to write it.

I laughed.

And then I said, “I have to write it. My honesty on humiliating topics is why my people keep coming back to read me.”

Heh. Heh. “My people.” Like I’m Gandhi, or Malcolm X, or Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.

Well, sorry, mama. You lose this one, but you can just blame it on the time my brother dropped me on my head when I was a week old. (That’s what I blame all my embarrassing stuff on…)

(And TRUST ME, this is so NOT the most embarrassing post I’ve ever written.)

Anyway…

I would wager that most parents have done some pretty bonehead things in the course of raising their children. I’m not talking about endangering children or doing something irreversible. I’m talking about things like letting them eat a cookie for breakfast,  not packing diapers in the diaper bag,  forgetting to turn on the baby monitor for 10 minutes after bedtime until you lunge toward it in a panic…well, never mind.

Anyway, I made bonehead parent move number 3,672 when I accidentally washed my kid at the car wash yesterday.

That’s right, I said:

I WASHED MY KID AT THE CAR WASH.

E loves the car wash. Being claustrophobic, I don’t enjoy it much. However, since she does I try to wash my car when she’s with me.

And my car desperately needed washing.

So we selected the “car wash” option after getting gas yesterday and pulled into the wash area. As we were waiting for the water to begin, I turned around in my seat to talk car wash with E.

“It’s coming! Are you ready? Are you excited?!? Here it comes! It’s going to wash our car. ARE YOU EX…”

About that time, a spray of water came out of nowhere and wiped the excited smile  right off of E’s little toddler face. She sputtered and writhed beneath a splash like someone had just turned a waterhose on her.

*Apparently* I was so preoccupied with ensuring that the sunroof completely closed that I failed to hold all the window buttons long enough to close the windows. One was still open…a little. (Guess which one.)

When I looked back, there was only about a 1/4-inch crack, but the water sprayers were at the exact height so that it sprayed directly into the back window…onto E. (Thank goodness it was the beginning water-only part and not the foamy wash or the sealing wax.)

Horrified, I watched E wince as the washing mechanisms made another pass. I apologized and dried her off with a blanket while the wash finished. I mumbled I’m so sorry-I’m so sorry-I’m so sorry through an explanation of the window closing error. 

She never cried, she never made a peep, she just said, “It’s okay, mommy.”

Once out of the wash, I jumped out of the car to make sure she was really okay. Through the little wet tendrils surrounding her face, she solemnly shook her head and said, “Not go back to car wash. It washed me down.”

What’s that parenting point between mortification and, um, laughing uncontrollably?

Yeah. That one.

Photo: PicApp/Corbis