The 60s boy next door has moved up from a Lambretta to a Mini. Today he is out lovingly washing it as we walk past. My filthy, sticky car is a few feet away. If I were a normal middle aged man I'd say to him, "You can do mine when you've finished." I'm not normal, though. Some cars are aesthetically pleasing to me, like the boy's Mini. But that's as far as it goes for me. My car stays plain-looking, unwashed and unloved, covered in tree and bird emissions. I ought to give it a once-over but that can wait till the week before its service.
6 comments:
I pay my kids to wash mine.
Is it at the point where someone has written "Wash Me" on the window with their finger?
"You can do mine when you've finished."
"Chance 'd be a fine thing!"
Has Simon Dee popped by yet?
Bob - It'd need more than the strength of kids to get the tree crap off my car. I don't think I'm up to it, either.
MJ - Someone's written "I wish my wife was this dirty". They're a subtle lot round here.
Rog - It's Dee Time here now. We're spinning the new Bee Gees 45.
What kind of trees line your route, then? I can only imagine they're coconut trees if things fall out and damage your car. Couldn't the boy next door shin up and harvest them before they fall? Mind you, coconut milk gives a lustrous sheen to bodywork, human or automobile.
I wish it was a coconut tree. I think it's a molasses & syrup tree.
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