car wash

Running errands today during the pocket of time football practice creates before dinner making begins, I jetted through the car wash. What a dreamy place. All frame of reference gets sudsed away. All sound gives way to the shimmy, spray, and slosh of the revolving mechanisms happily scrubbing. Light filters through tints of "Grime Be Gone" auto wash bubbles adding a touch more whimsy to the familiarity of the dashboard, upholstery. And I'm held still, jobless, for a few moments. What would life be like if everything was automated? What in the world would I do with my self/time/imagination? Breathe more?

This evening Zane announced, "I'd like to invent something really awesome. Something the would help people a lot, change their lives. Like, one guy is working on a giant space harpoon to reel in space junk. Something like that." Indeed.

Somewhere in time, a kid said to a mom, "Mom! I've invented an automatic car washer!" And she said, "Of course you did, you brilliant child! Of course you did!" So I said to my own inventor, "Oh, you will. And, I can't wait to use it. You'll name it after me, right? The Angelator?" And we smiled in the quiet, each considering our needs and the inventions to answer them. And Angelators.

For now, the car is clean, the heart content, and the drawing board open.