This weekend, as a mini-Mother’s Day gift to myself, I decided to splurge on the “deluxe” package at the car wash, vacuum my car and detail the inside. (Kids are SOOOOO messy.) When I got in the Civic this morning, I chuckled to myself, remembering a very slick lesson I learned the hard way…

Very Slick Lesson Learned the Hard Way | Mini Van Dreams

My dad and I went to a Goody’s car show one weekend in Indianapolis. While there, we watched a demonstration of Mother’s car care products. We decided to buy a set. I came home, cleaned up my 1979 Malibu, and detailed the inside with Mother’s Protectant. (This is not an affiliate link, I just truly believe it is the BEST product out there.)

That weekend, I pulled my freshly detailed Malibu up to the starting line. Yellow. Yellow. Yellow. Green. The car launched off the starting line, glistening in the sunlight with her new detail job. (Okay, maybe not, but it’s my story.) About mid track, I pulled ahead of the guy I was racing and my car immediately took a hard left to the guardrail.

I grabbed the steering wheel, but it slipped through my hands and kept going. I couldn’t get a good grip.

No where on the package of Mother’s did it say “do not spray on your steering wheel.” Crap. I was in trouble.

My entire life – and especially during racing – my dad always trained me to not panic. Think outside the box. Stay calm. Do what you have to do. Save the car. Win the race.

And, I am sure my mom would be proud (not), I spit on my hands and grabbed the steering wheel. My hands stuck, the car swerved back to the middle of the track and I did not meet the guardrail face to face.

I learned a slick lesson the hard way that day. Never, ever, ever detail your steering wheel. In fact, if you ever have your car detailed – check THEY didn’t hit it with anything to make it slick.

It was years later, I realized that the same lesson applied in life. Sometimes, you have to do what you need to do to survive and live to “race” another day.

This morning, driving into work, I chuckled to myself. I grabbed the steering wheel and ran my hands over it to make sure it wasn’t slick with any residue spray. I was good. But, if I wasn’t – I knew what to do.

Spit in my hands and grab the wheel.

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