Sheila is Jered’s car. She wasn’t too fond of me when we first started dating, but I think she’s come to accept the fact that I’m not going anywhere. Though she still likes to hit me in the head from time to time – I swear she moves her door frame to do it, it can’t be my own clumsiness.
Every few months I make a comment about how dirty Sheila is getting, that I will clean her up the next time we are out at Jered’s house. And then the disagreement ensues.
“She’s my car, I can’t make you clean her.”
“You’re not making me do anything. I want to do it.”
“But it’s still my responsibility to clean her.”
“…But I’m better at it. And you don’t even like doing it. So it’s a win-win for both of us…you can vacuum the floor mats, you’re good at that.”
As you can see by the super attractive photo of me, I won again. I cannot help it. I love, love, love cleaning. Seriously, people. I will clean your house for you. Or your car. Or both.