Take No Hostages

Nothing bothers me more than when my sporty white Dodge Caravan is dirty. It feels so unkempt, but as moms, our days are so packed with work, the kids, their afterschool activities, thinking about what to make for dinner, shopping for dinner, and actually cooking dinner, that there is precious little time for such luxuries as spending time to have someone else wash and vacuum your car, let alone do it yourself.

However, I was ahead of schedule the other day and, after working all morning with toddlers and preschoolers at the rec center, shopping for dinner, and getting gas, I actually had 15 minutes to get the car washed before I had to pick the kids up from school. I like to get my car washed in Englewood, right down the road from Jerry's. They are reasonably priced and do a great job. You get out of your car and by the time you pay, your car emerges from the wash sparkling clean inside and out. The man who took my car asked if I wanted the trunk of the mini-van vacuumed. I told him no, but asked him to please remove all the "4-Piece Chicken Nugget Happy Meal" fingerprints from the interior windows.

As I waited outside in the glorious sunshine waiting for my car, I was pleased that I had 9 minutes to pick the kids up from school. No problem. As my car slid off the track of the car wash, five men descended upon it with their "Sham-Wow's" and went to work making my car sparkle. The man sitting in the driver's seat jumped out, gave my window one last polish; I tipped him, jumped into my car, and took off for ACS to get the kids. As I drove down the street I heard something coming from the rear of the car. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw a man climbing out of my trunk and coming towards me with a bottle of window cleaner and a roll of paper towels in his hands. I screamed bloody murder; he screamed louder. I stopped short, causing him to fall and come sliding towards me through the space between the roomy bucket seats. At that exact moment an Englewood cop was driving past me and heard my scream. He put his car in reverse, rolled up to my open window and asked, "Lady, are you all right?" Now, I'm pretty sure that the man in my car was Mexican, but I wasn't sure if he was documented. I leaned down and whispered to him, "Don't say anything! Just keep quiet and stay down!" which only served to scare the bejeezus out of him, but I didn't want the cop to see him and check him for his working papers. I assured the cop I was fine and that a bee was in the car. Satisfied, he drove off.

I realized that this poor Mexican man awoke this morning intending only to put in a full day of work; he never expected to be kidnapped (intentionally or not) by some rabid stressed out mother desperately in need of a vacation. My sympathy quickly turned to annoyance when I saw that I had five minutes to get to the school before the kids were sent to the Main Office to wait. If I took the Mexican with me, I could still make it. What's the proper protocol for unintended kidnapping? Would he like a break in his day? (Don't judge me--crazy thoughts enter the crazed mom trying to beat the clock and fit everything she needs to do into her day!) This poor man, having limited English, was near tears saying, "Lady, Lady, No Lady..." To put this poor man at ease, I employed my best Dora and Diego Spanish skills and essentially sung to him, "Come vamanos, everybody let's go, come on let's get to it, you know that you can do it...Dora the Explorer!" He only got more scared, and frankly, I don't blame him. I drove around the block and delivered him safely back to the car wash. I could see all his friends standing on the pavement clearly worried about him. I parked the car, opened the automatic side door, and out he jumped to the cheers of his friends, "Juan! Como esta??" I profusely apologized to all of them, most especially to Juan, and gave him $5 dollars for his trouble. He kindly placed the $5 back into my hand and whispered, "Vamanos."

The moral of the story--when you get your car washed, check your trunk for Mexicans before you drive away, and know that it's okay if your kids have to wait in the Main Office for you to pick them up.