As the weeks drag on and our forced home confinement continues, I find that the family is going deeper and deeper down the well of madness when it comes to home projects and chores.

Oh, at first, it started out as the normal stuff.  Our days were filled with adjusting to working from home,  participating in online classes, family dinners (with a full table), and evenings spent perusing the collected video catalogs of Netflix, Hulu, and Disney +.

Projects that we never thought we’d have time for were finally getting their due.  I started a plot in the community garden.  My wife and kids cleaned out the basement.  Our porch furniture made an early annual appearance.

However, as the days tick off, we’re discovering that once those types of projects are sorted out and under control, our efforts to stay distracted are leading us to some behaviors that we couldn’t envision ourselves partaking in just a few short months ago.

For example, I recently returned home from work (I still occasionally work onsite a day or two here and there) to find all of our curtains and blinds pulled down and my wife hand-washing the windows.  Yes, hand-washing the windows – on both sides (using the tilt-in feature).  We haven’t removed the curtains and sheers since we moved in thirteen years ago, but it seemed like as good a time as any to wash them.

“Are you OK”? I asked, hesitantly.

“Yes, just bored,” came the reply.

I can relate.

After completing my yardwork this past Saturday (yes, I’m on week three of mowing the grass), I looked around and said to myself “you know what?  I’m going to wash the cars.” 

Now, if you know anything about me, you would realize that this is not a behavior I would normally exhibit.  I’m not a person who is defined by the type of car I drive – nor the state of the transportation that I do own (as long as it runs).  Heck, I’d ride around in a Mennonite buggy or pull a rickshaw if I didn’t live so far away from my job.  I’m the type of person who disappoints the local hooligans who throw eggs at cars along the streets because I never bother to wash off the residue or shells from a night of pelting.  I just don’t care.  I never wash my vehicles.  I mean NEVER – not even at a local car wash – where you can just drive through and sit in your vehicle as the work is done for you. 

So now picture my rides – a 1999 Toyota Camry (nicknamed “Stan”), a 2001 Toyota Sienna van (nicknamed “Weezy”), and a 2012 Nissan Sentra (nicknamed “Mr. Lee”) and you can just imagine the years of dust, dirt, leaves, cherry blossoms, assorted egg remnants, and disappointment that adorned these exteriors.

Yet, there I was, bucket full of soapy water, hose at the ready, lovingly washing all three of these vehicles on a windy, Saturday afternoon.  My youngest joined me in washing “Stan” (the car she and her sister usually drive), and she looked at me as we scrubbed with that nervousness in her eyes of a person worried about their parent’s mental state.  I even pulled out the vacuum and cleaned up the interiors as well.  She slowly backed away to return to her world of Tik-Tok and Instagram.

I hope that these lock-downs end soon or else you may find me doing something really weird, like charting the cars that drive by my street on a whiteboard or building a full-sized Asian elephant out of used clothing.

Hang in there, everybody!