Tonight starts a new season of "Hoarders". I don't know why I love these reality shows where people deal with the outward showing of their inner pain, but I love them. You name it, "Biggest Loser", "Intervention", "Rehab with Dr. Drew" (though I didn't watch the sex addiction version.)
Anyway, as I was relaying my exciting evening of mental illness voyeurism, I realized the only thing standing between me and "Hoarders" is a camera. No, wait a minute, not even that, because if my sons got the idea, it would be on YouTube. My car looks like a Dollar Tree exploded. The only thing that keeps me safe is I might find a pair of their chones on the car's floor and they won't be having that humiliation for themselves.
I'm a car chick. So this seriously disturbs me that my kids have no respect for my car. I was irritated, until I saw just how much I keep in my car "in case". I have every drug known to man, in case someone needs something, I have a First Aid kit, I have my hat if I'm cold, my summer hat if I get to run, my flip-flops if I have time for a pedicure, wet wipes in case someone makes a mess (ahem! or spills coffee), my Bible for waiting time, three pairs of sunglasses (you never know!) a stuffed elephant for my Dh's back if he's driving, a bag of snacks from Grandma (in case a kid gets hungry), a pillow in case someone's tired, a box of waters for soccer practice, my iPod for running, and an extra pair of shoes/socks for every kid because someone will get to the restaurant/soccer/church without them.
I think if I got locked in my car? I could live quite well for a month. Send in the cameras...I need an Intervention. But if you had my memory and my schedule, maybe your car would look just like mine.