I'm a father and like any father I dearly love my child. We all know we're supposed to love and cherish our children but there's something else we are supposed to do.
Make fun of them from time to time. It's good for them and hey, if you can't point and laugh at family who can you do it to?
I present for your comedic consideration The Van. When Jen went haring off to Hungary (the land of The Huns you know) she left us her van. Now, for those of you who have or ever had small children this without a doubt comes as no surprise to you.
Parents have better things to do than constantly keep up on the cleanliness of their various Child Transportation Conveyances. Hence, the state of hygiene of The Van. I decided to drive The Van around a bit. You know, keep the fluids flowing, keep the tires round and see what she's got. (Hint; It's a van, she don't got much). During the ride I noticed a certain....odour. I noticed it as it crept up from the back and started beating me about the head. It was piquant with a full bouquet and just a tang of baby vomit. And is that a hint of spilled milk mixed with the musky remnants of a full diaper? Why yes, I believe it is. So, with head firmly out the drivers window, I felt it might be time to maybe do some Spring Cleaning. In February. Hey, you take Spring where you find it.
I present you proof that small children are in fact wanna be chipmunks. This is my granddaughters seat. Where her car seat goes. We found this after removing said car seat.
If you look closely you can find all kinds of goodies in there. Nuts, M&M's, cracker remnants and various bits unidentifiable as actual food. Hey, is that a pretzel?This is my grandson's side.
Please note that there is actually considerably less food like items on the boys side. Is it because he's just naturally neater than the girl? Did he get fed less? Did the cleaning fairies start on his side first? Um, no. Rather it's either because he seldom let anything slip past his always ravening hunger or he was busy fishing around down there for a snack. I'm voting for that second one. That boy is always looking for something to eat.This is the floor mats directly in front of the kids' seat.
Jen wisely chose a mat with little indentations to catch whatever fell down there. Each of those indentations, cups if you will, was packed with to the top with...stuff. It was compressed to the consistency of concrete. I took the mat out and threw it on the ground upside down. Then I beat on it with a broom. When I turned it over again not one single molecule of this....stuff had fallen out. It required a jackhammer and industrial strength solvent to clean. Well, I exaggerate. It was only Muriatic Acid.
This was the rear of The Van, in a secret compartment behind the rear seats. Hey Jen, is that wrapping paper? Heh, heh, heh.
So, why the rip off of a reasonably good and pretty darn frightening Kurt Russel movie for the title to this post?
I think something is alive in The Van. After cleaning it to within an inch of my life I decided to drive it again. As I drove I could have sworn I saw something move. Out of the corner of my eye. When I turned it was gone but was that the tip of a tentacle disappearing under the floor mats I saw? I dismissed it but later I swear I felt something brush the back of my neck. You know, where the alien sticks it's tendril to suck out your brain and take over your body? You know? Like that.
I screamed like a politician facing a runoff election and piled out of The Van. I fired 3 quick rounds into the floorboard. I think it was 3. It might have been 15. I was a little spooked. (Don't worry Jen. The holes are barely noticeable. Sorry about that). When the smoke cleared I saw....nothing. We've set off several Febreeze bombs but I'm pretty sure I saw movement in there again yesterday.
I parked The Van and there it remains. I am startled. I am so, so startled.
Could it be true? Can the leavings from kids snacks, combined with sleep drool, spilled juice and the smell of overripe diapers actually create life?
I don't know but I'm not going in there again without Kurt and a flamethrower.
Jen, when are you coming home????