Meg and I cleaned our cars today.
To normal people, that likely means throwing away a dozen coffee cups and some gas receipts. Perhaps using glass cleaner to remove months of uncovered sneeze residue from the backside of your windshield (I won’t name names on who that refers to, but she knows who she is).
To parents, there is an entirely different level of cleaning a car: removing the car seats. You could feed a small country for a week on the sheer amount of cheddar goldfish and pretzels alone. A cluster of Cheerios fused together using melted chocolate and cinnamon sugar run off from Auntie Anne’s pretzels and has achieved sentience. I’m not sure if I should call the CDC for quarantine or the UN to negotiate with it. What I do know is that my shower doesn’t get hot enough to make me feel clean after this.