I learned I do not like the drive-thru car wash. Nope.
Yesterday, the parents needed to go to Lowe's. Now, I'm always up for a trip to the home improvement store. Like, up into my truck! I love, love, love my big blue truck! What was I saying?
Oh, yeah. Trip to Lowe's. It's a good thing.
Mom opened my door for me, Dad got in to drive, and off we went. Then Mom told Dad she'd pay for it if he'd run the truck through the car wash. My truck really did have a thick yellow coating of pollen on it, for sure. I thought the words "car wash" sounded vaguely familiar, but I wasn't sure what she meant.
I think I might remember next time. The car wash is a pretty scary place.
It started out fine. We were in my truck and Dad never drives it into places he can't drive out of. Then there was a loud voice and an even louder beeping sound, and then water sprayed all over my truck until Dad stopped. He stopped in this tunnel! I didn't like that much. Then it got worse!
These funky pillars with brushes started to move. The brushes started to spin and pound on my truck! I did not like this! But Mom and Dad sat there like it was the most normal thing in the world! Why?!
I started to growl and Mom put her hand on my chest and I know to shut up when she does that.
And then it got worse!
The brushes stopped and Dad drove forward and these big vent things blew air and it was freaky loud. I did not like that sound at all!
And do you know what the very worst of the worst was? I didn't even get a snackie for living through all that.
***Note... Deuce, this is your Dad. What about that cheeseburger I bought you on the way home?***