Honey, I Broke the Carwash

I can’t believe what happened yesterday. Can’t. Believe.

 

I had to run a few errands and because I’m what Einstein would call insane, I decided to drag the kids with me. You know, I’ve decided that I’m not insane. I’m a masochist. No, scratch that. I’m an insane masochist. Who loves Thai food.

 

So here’s what happened.

I took the kids to the car wash.

The End.

 

Fascinating, right? Wait! It gets better.

 

So here’s what happened.

 

We were next in line at the car wash at my favorite gas station, Mashiach Gas.

 

The guy tells me to make sure all of my windows are up, put the car in neutral, keep your crazy kids under control, lady, blah, blah, blah.

 

I smiled and nodded like I heard what he was saying, but really I was listening to three of my kids screaming at each other because each of them insisted that they deserved the front seat this time. Meanwhile, my other two were climbing onto my lap and the dashboard so they could shoot invisible bullets at the Evil Twirling Brush Invaders that were sent here from Planet X to find out if the human race really is a brainless group of social media-addicted zombies like they’ve heard.

 

After Car Wash Guy politely refused my generous offer to give him 5 free assistants for the afternoon (FREE, yo!) I rolled up my window and waited for the fun to begin.

 

Two seconds into the car wash I noticed that the car was going a bit fast. I automatically assumed that they had programmed it to go faster than usual because they’ve done it in the past. Seriously, one time my car came out of the wash still covered in soap.

 

The car started bumping through the wash at a speed that was not normal fast, and all of a sudden, it stopped. With the machine off and the humongous twirling brush from Planet X shot dead on my windshield, Car Wash Guy sauntered over to me, lit cigarette in hand, shaking his head like he just knew something was going to happen.

 

“Lady, you just broke the car wash,” he said. I thought I detected a hint of annoyance. “What do you mean I broke the car wash?” I asked, as I caught a glimpse of the gear shifter that was stuck in Drive.

 

I kept playing dumb as I quickly snuck the gear shift back to Neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I smiled sweetly before turning to the kids and barking, “SIT DOWN RIGHT NOWWWW!!!”

 

“We heard an explosion, and then the machine stopped,” he explained.

 

Oh, boy.

 

“Well can you start the machine again and see if it works?” I begged. I hoped this wasn’t going to turn into something serious, but I was sadly mistaken. “Nope, can’t do that. We’re going to have to call in the technician to see if any of the pieces are broken. We can’t take a chance on your car,” he said.

 

“Guido, tell the rest of the line the car wash is closed. We’re shuttin’ her down.” Hateful words spoken by an underpaid chain-smoking single guy who couldn’t possibly understand the stress of having 5 kids. Excuse me, boys. 5 BOYS.

 

Go ahead. I challenge you to write me a judgmental comment.

 

“I need your registration and insurance information please,” he then told me. “What??” I was in disbelief. Did he really just say PLEASE???

 

“Oh, you want to play that game?” I countered. “Fine.” I got out of my car and started looking for something broken in the front of the car. I discovered that the bottom of my grill was not attached, and I started moving it back and forth. “Look, your car wash broke my grill. That was probably the explosion you heard.” I told him.

 

I started taking a video of it, and then he told me, “We have three cameras on you. We’ll be able to see if it was your fault or not. Maybe your car was in Drive instead of Neutral.” I looked at him like he fell from the moon. “Listen, I’ve been driving through car washes since you were a baby. I know the car is supposed to be in Neutral,” I said.

 

Then I decided to pull the nice card. “Do you know that because of me, your car wash is world-famous?!” “Lady, u insane.”

 

For about half an hour, I refused to give him any info and wished I was married to a lawyer that could tell me if he was violating my rights or something. But when he threatened to call the police I knew he wasn’t backing down.

 

So I gave him all of the info and eventually drove away, with the kids asking me a million questions like, “Are we going to have to buy them a new car wash? Are you ever going to go back there?”

 

Good questions.

 

After all that, I had one more challenge to face: my husband. “Hey there,” he greeted me on the phone. G-d I hate when he says that. “Ummmm… I have something to tell you. I, ummm, accidentally, ummm… brokethecarwash,” I said as fast as I could. And then I quickly hung up.

 

We continued on with our fun afternoon adventure, and when we drove home, we saw that the car wash was indeed closed.

 

Later that night, when I had some quiet time to meditate with a soothing glass of red wine, I really, truly, deeply understood this profound lesson: money comes and money goes. If you have good health and people you love, you are rich.

 

So I thanked Hashem for the fact that I have insurance, David has a good job, and everyone’s healthy. Sure beats watching my kids suffer, or the millions of other terrible things that can happen, G-d forbid.

 

Whatever we have in this physical world is a free gift from Hashem. Our efforts just give us the feeling that we’re earning what we get, in order to appreciate it. So, if Hashem wants to give us more or less based on His understanding of what we need, we need to be okay with that.

 

And it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t work! We absolutely should put as much effort as we can into everything we do! It just means that we should recognize that our efforts are for appreciation purposes only! Everything is in Hashem’s Hands.

 

The next day I staked out the car wash like an ex-girlfriend spying on her ex-boyfriend, and whaddayaknow. The car wash was working again!

 

Thanks for letting me know, Guido. Now that’s what I call Israeli courtesy.