Why is it that when you wash your car, it always rains?

**Yeah, yeah... It is what you think it is...another shameles Gramma Bragging Post.**

We've had nothing but rain, rain, clouds, and more rain this summer. (yes, I know many of you are feeling toasted in heatwaves around the country, but that is so not the case here in the Pacific Northwest this year.) This past weekend we were very blessed to have had not one, but two full days of sweltering heat and sunshine. 

Aaah, life is good. 

Perfect weather for barbequing, and picnics, and parties and...washing your car. So, that's what I did.

Actually, let me correct myself. I didn't wash my car. No, I got my car washed this past weekend by the cutest little car-washer evah. 

Mmmm hmm.

I stopped by to pick his Mama up to go to his Auntie's house (a kitchen-nook decorating summit. Very important stuff...) and Carter and his Daddy were out washing the truck. They generously offered to wash my little Beetle while they were at it.

"Thank you!" I said and my lil' pint sized Casanova began soaping things up as soon as his Daddy finished hitting my Bug with the hose.

 

Faaaabulous!

(The only thing better than having a cute lil' convertible, is having a cute lil' clean convertible, you know.)

Then...........

I woke up Monday morning to thunder rolling and raindrops drizzling.

*sigh* It was so nice while it lasted.