While Silas wrecked the front of our old car, the backseat was Owen’s territory. It was a wild pile of snapped crayons, half-eaten chips, and sticky juice packs!
Between driving our five-year-old to kindergarten, doing errands, and visiting my mom — who’d been struggling with her health — keeping the car clean felt impossible. It was a fight I kept losing, but giving up wasn’t an option since I needed the car too.
But this Saturday morning was different. Silas’s coworker, Nate, offered to drive him to an early job, giving me a rare bit of free time and full access to the car. I looked at the chaos that was our vehicle and decided it was time to battle the mess.
“Owen, want to help me clean the car?” I asked, half-hoping he’d say no.
His eyes sparkled. “Can I use the cloth?”
“Absolutely.”
Owen looked so sweet as he marched outside, clutching a small cloth like a hero’s tool. For the first thirty minutes, we were a solid team. He scrubbed the tires with the focus of a little trooper, and I tackled the front seats, pulling out old receipts and gooey candy wrappers.
But soon, Owen flopped onto the curb, puffing out his cheeks.
