Neill is no stranger to a hose. One of his favorite warm weather activities, besides raking leaves from point a to b and then back to a (and then back to b again), is watering.
Note I did not say watering plants or flowers. Because Neill doesn't care so much what he waters - he will water a basketball hoop if it's close to him - as long as he gets some long, uninterrupted time to yank the hose around the yard. And you can blame us for over-consuming the earth's resources because Neill's IQ isn't high enough to grasp such concepts. Sometimes we just want to keep him happy.
I was leaving to pick Neill up and take him out to dinner the other day when Matthew asked if I thought Neill would enjoy a car wash.
"I think so," I said, "I mean, it might make him have a seizure but I bet he'd like it still."
Loud noises startle Neill cause him seizures, the reason he always wears a helmet outside. If he had one in the car, though, while going through the wash, I could easily hold onto him if he was in a daze. Also, the car was so thoroughly streaked with mud, salt, and sludge that squinting through the windows for a simple lane change was unsafe so I voted yes on proposition car wash and OH. MY GOD.
I've now decided that Neill and I are going to have a bi-weekly dinner and car wash date because my brother started laughing the minute he saw the hose guys who took our money and didn't stop until we exited the interior conveyor belt, all squeaky and shiny. Good cheap, practical, clean fun.
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