Mommy, what is attacking our car?!I didn't think twice about getting our car washed. Aaron has been through them before without a problem. But he's changing by the minute, that boy. Learning new words and discovering new things to fear.
When the carwash first started, he was uncertain, alternating between the about-to-cry-protruding-lower-lip (which is what I was trying to capture with my camera) and trust that Noah and I were not out of our minds telling him all was well.
The sudden attack of the rinse cycle put him over the edge. He jumped in his seat and then started trying to claw his way away from the window. It was too pitiful. I pulled him onto my lap for the rest, where he clung to me and waited it out in a cuddle.
Noah, ever the brave big brother, held out in the back seat and discussed the kinds of goop being sprayed on the windows, whether he'd get a chance to rewash them at the gas station, and why there weren't any brushes this time.
I love boys.
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