03 February 2009

car wash

There are some things that will always and forevermore remind me of my home and family in Texas.

Two of them I am accomplishing today.

The second is grilling. At Bible Study tonight we are throwing some burgers on and grilling out! Every time I lite up the grill I can't help but thinking of our backyard.

The first thing is washing and waxing my car. I tend to take an extra long time on my car as I think back to the garage and just exactly how my dad taught me to do it. You crank up the beach boys or other oldies and go at it. You put extra time on the side of the car being sure to wash around the decorative edging. You dry the car quickly so the sun cannot streak it. You wax everywhere and be extra sure you removed it all. You wipe down the leather, vacuum out the interior and clean the console. You Windex the windows and at the end you take a step back to admire your work.

Then comes my favorite part as a child, rinsing out the sponges. You get to fill the sponges with water and step on them to squish the soap out. When I was younger I used to sit in the bucket pretending I was on a ship as the hose water flowed around me. I got to spray down the driveway and dad to finish cleaning up the work site sometimes. Some may call it child labor...but their just lazy! It was bonding with my pops and learning how to take care of the possessions God is lending to me. So here's to my little car that is outside shinning and a little more happy! And here's to my parents who taught me responsibility!

4 comments:

Unknown said...

How old were you in that picture? You still look exactly the same, like you just photoshopped your head on a child's body (which, giving that a second thought, would probably be really weird).

spartacus21 said...

i was prob about 8

Gabe Hagstrom said...

I like that you can see yourself in the side of that car. I also like the reminder to be a good steward of God's stuff. Thanks.

Anonymous said...

What can I say, you warm the cockles of my heart. I almost bawled.

Love, Dad