Note: If you read this and you know the movie from the poster on the right, you are a righteous dude (or dudette).
I like to think of myself as a moderate "car guy." I can't quote engine sizes and the subtle difference in taillights between different model years and I don't know all about every new car coming out and I don't even have a car magazine subscription (though I do have a couple 4x4 subscriptions). But I do love cars. And as a car lover, I find a deep -deep- satisfaction from a clean car. So why, then, would I choose to live two and a half miles down a dirt road? That's just masochistic!
I spent almost FOUR HOURS cleaning my wife's car yesterday. The exterior still looked like Hell since our well water is rather mineral-rich but the interior was well vacuumed, windows were spotless and dashboard, plastic, seats and such were dust-free and clean.
While I was cleaning it occured to me that probably the most frustrating thing about being married is having to share a car. I grew up with parents who were both quite fastidious with the cleanliness of our vehicles. So my parents were in cahoots when it came to keeping dog slobber, cereal, gold fish, hay and goats out of our family cars. I love Kris for the fact that we have reason for all the above to get into her car but, man, it's hard on the brains!
S0 question of the day: How many goats have been transported in your family car? I bet we've hauled more than you have!