TWO-CAR WASH

I washed two cars yesterday - my parents' little white Toyota Aygo and my not-much-bigger Auris.

It was great fun. I don't even know why, but I enjoyed it so much I told them I could happily do it again in a few weeks' time. I sloshed around the bucket of soapy water, I streaked the paintwork with a sopping chamois. I sprayed the windows with glass-cleaner and watched the sun sparkle off the suds. Magic.

Now that we're at the next phase of lockdown-easing, we're allowed to mingle outdoors. I had decided to drive to my parents' house where I could very generously let them supply me with teas and biscuits, while I got on with the job.

"Ooh, you missed a bit," laughed a passer-by. It's an unwritten rule that you have to say something like that of course. That and...

"When can you come round and do mine?"

I hope I didn't roll my eyes. I don't think I did.

"It took you three hours to wash two cars?" asked Sammy later, laughing at me. I nodded wistfully. I hadn't mentioned the percentage of the three hours that could be filed under the category: tea and biscuits.

Anyway, it was great. I think it was enjoyable because I was away from a screen. It's so nice to not be locked into the digital world, to do something old-fashioned and manual for a change. I haven't done that in such a long time. Plus, it was just so lovely to spend an afternoon with my Mum and my Dad.

Sometimes we prefer the easiest solution to a problem, but it isn't necessarily the best. I thought it through: I'd have paid for someone else to do that job pre-lockdown! Either at the carwash, or at Sainsbury's, where the hustlers in yellow-jackets used to go around with their car-cleaning trolleys.

The truth is, either way, I'd have sat in Starbucks with a big tea and a Belgian bun staring at my phone. Or I'd have been in the car while the brushes tickled my wing-mirrors. And what would I have been doing? Checking my emails, writing a pithy tweet, scrolling Instagram again. Boo.

The two cars glistened in the drive. I tipped the bucket of filthy water down the drain and guzzled the final cup of tea that had been resting on the window sill. I sighed, satisfied. That was a good day.