I hope this letter finds you well, especially after that rather alarming encounter when you innocently asked to join me in my car for our shared outing. I sincerely apologize for my immediate and intense “NO,” which I recognize may have left you momentarily stunned.
I also regret if I inadvertently directed you back to your own vehicle with a firm push. When I slip into “panic mode,” my instincts take over, and a modicum of chaos can ensue.
You see, dear neighbor, I couldn’t help but notice your immaculate spice rack and that perfectly organized Lazy Susan when I had the chance to explore your cabinets (thank you for that!). It became abundantly clear that you and your lovely family, who likely live in a world free from crumbs and spills, might need a hazmat suit before stepping inside my vehicle. We simply didn’t have the time to check your immunization records or prepare you for the olfactory assault you’d encounter.
While I do have the usual fare of parenting debris—like old French fries and petrified gummy candies hiding in the corners—my car harbors some unique surprises. For instance, do you know how many fingernails can accumulate in the crevices after a nail-clipping session gone awry? Yes, that delightful moment last week when my little one fell asleep while I was trimming his nails led to a tiny disaster when my middle child decided to scatter the aftermath everywhere.
And let’s talk about the rotting fruit! One peach, left to its own devices, transformed my car into a veritable stink bomb. It took weeks for the odor to dissipate, leaving us to wonder if it was actually my child’s shoes causing the smell. Speaking of shoes, they often come off during our summer escapades, with the air conditioning circulating their delightful scent throughout the cabin.
Oh, and my youngest? He transforms into a tiny hurricane of hunger during car rides, and denying him snacks results in two days of ear-splitting complaints. He’s on a banana kick lately, which, when smeared on the window, looks uncannily similar to his booger art.
As for trash, it tends to pile up. Between stuffed animals and half-eaten granola bars, I often forget to clean up until it’s too late. There was a day when I thought I’d be responsible, only to find myself scrolling through social media instead of cleaning the potential biohazard zone that is my vehicle.
In hindsight, if I had maintained my car’s cleanliness, I might have welcomed you into my passenger seat with open arms instead of a panicked shout. But alas, I’ve grown accustomed to prioritizing the safety of my children over my vehicle’s hygiene. Our next home will definitely include a garage.
And speaking of cleanliness, I recently discovered a collection of dried worms in my oldest’s cup holder. I can only imagine how that would have affected your appetite had you caught sight of them!
So, dear neighbor, I truly apologize for my startled response rather than a gentle explanation. I hope you understand my strong stance on the matter. In the future, feel free to suggest an adventure in my car, just give me a day or two to prepare for the impending chaos.
Warm regards,
The Girl Who Drives the Acura That Looks Classy Outside but is a Total Mess Inside
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In summary, I just wanted to clarify my car’s condition and extend my apologies for the abruptness of my response. I hope we can share a ride soon—once I’ve had a chance to tidy up a bit!