Miles don't scare me. You know what scares me?
Petrified french fries welded to seat belt buckles. A tobacco film on the inside of the windshield so thick it takes nine paper towels and half a bottle of Invisible Glass to remove. Tires that are only worn on the inside edge. Curb rash. Missing tools in the trunk. Sunvisors with four hundred Speedway and Ohio Lottery receipts folded up in them so when you put the visor down, you end up with giant red and white confetti in your lap. Cupholders with a quarter inch of dried sludge at the bottom, consisting of Big Red, Dr Pepper, cigarette ashes, loose tobacco, fingernail clippings, and bits of straw wrapper paper. Headliners that have a giant dark streak from the driver's side window towards the center due to driving with the window open. Stereos with every preset set to 97.9, 106.7, and 107.9 (in my area) and the volume set high enough to startle you inside the car and make people groan and roll their eyes outside the car. Missing floor mats, or worse yet, parts store branded generic rubber mats. Dreamcatchers hanging from the rear view mirror. NASCAR stickers. And finally, the thing that scares me the most, opening the hood to see this on the battery:
If a 99 cent package of corrosion preventative grease is too much for one to afford to keep a car operating properly, what else hasn't been done?
If cleaning the car out even once a month is too much effort to have a little bit of order and cleanliness, what other hidden treasure am I going to find?
I have seven kids. I know vehicles get messed up pretty quick. But I also know taking an hour every few weeks to bring them back is worth the time put into it many times over.