Lemon-Blue Coconut

15 Oct

My car is having a rough week.  You can tell that it’s almost paid off because all of a sudden it’s looking a bit…loved.  Since it has beige, fabric seats I’ve done fairly well at keeping it clean.  With two kids and two dogs this is not an easy task.  Surely if anything were to happen to the seats, it would be by their hands…or paws.  Not the case.  Of course not.  Life is not well lived if not for regular bouts of irony.  So, who stained the seats this week?  Me.

It wasn’t just a little spill.  It wasn’t an errant shoe print or smear of ketchup.  It was a full on explosion of carbonated goodness.

At least once a week the kids and I stop by Sonic for happy hour.  The kids get slushes that are atrocities of flavor.  Like Lemon-Blue Coconut.  *hack*  I love the look on the car hop’s face when she brings them out.  Like I’ve grown a third eye.  Yes, my kids have damaged taste buds…you got a problem with that?

I usually end up picking up Route 44’s for everyone else at the office.  This is a challenge since my car only has two cup holders.  And since the car hop never brings me a drink caddy, I end up sticking drinks wherever I can.  It’s crazy but it works.  Well, lo and behold the car hop FINALLY brought me a drink caddy this week.  Oh, it was like Christmas.  No more sticking over-sized drinks between me legs!

FYI: Drink caddies are overrated.

The thing about putting drinks between your legs is that thighs make for super efficient drink holders.  They keep drinks in place by compensating for turns and decelerations as you drive.  Drink caddies on the other hand just stand there in all their flimsy, cardboard glory waiting to zing you when you least expect it.  Like when you turn out of Sonic and on to the highway.  That’s when they fail.

And that is what happened to my car this week.  As I turned out of Sonic the drink caddy unleashed a 44 ounce flood of Vanilla Diet Dr. Pepper…easy on the ice.  It flowed across the floorboard into the back of the car until I slammed on the brakes to catch the flying cups.  Then a four-foot wave of syrupy nastiness flew back  into the front of the car crashing over the right speaker and splashing up on the seat.  Grrrrreat.  The worst part was that the kids were in the car and I couldn’t even utter my favorite expletive.  “Oh crud!”  Yeah.  That’s not satisfying at all.  There are perfectly proper four-letter words out there to fit the situation, but only for the 13 and older crowd.

Now my almost-paid-for car looks the part.  It’s slowly edging toward 90,000 miles, the front passenger seat is Dr. Pepper-rific and I am sure that some part of the engine is plotting its demise.  A demise that will only come into play the day after I mail off my last payment.

And such is life.  ;)


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