Contents under pressure

P1191027
Originally uploaded by spolay

On the outside, my Saturn -- complete with its tricked-out, ACK-emblemed bumper -- is in decent shape. Sure, there's a slight ding in the rear bumper from when a Jeep skidded into me after I stopped short on a wet New York road two years ago. All in all, though, it has held up pretty well after 5 1/2 years and 161,000-plus miles of interstate commuting.

The inside, though, is another matter.

I'm not sure why, but I never bought floor mats, so the carpets are a wreck, especially when you combine Northeast winters with the kids and I tracking in mud from the soccer fields and crushed shells from our driveway.

The real problem, though, are drink spills, and those stains are not limited to my carpets. I've had co-workers look at my blotchy cloth seats, and wonder whether their clothes are safe.

It's reached the point that if I know I'm going to be ferrying colleagues on the road, I borrow Brandy's Toyota Highlander and its leather seats. It's the family car and takes its own beating, but those seats have sustained the kids' and my punishment much better than my Saturn.

If I don't have the Highlander at my disposal, I'll employ reverse politeness:

• "Would you mind driving? My car is a mess."
• "Can someone drive? I've got child safety seats in the back, and I can't fit everyone."
• "You drive. I'll navigate."

The last two days have been no exception to drinks meeting their demise on my automotive interior. Yesterday, while returning home from Lookout Farm, Benjamin wanted a sip of his Gatorade. We were stopped at the time, so I dared to open the bottle and let him sip without a straw. No mishaps occurred at that point in the process. The truly foolish thing I did was jump back in the driver seat, and start the car. Benjamin's sip was a quick one, so he tried to hand me back the bottle, spilling some Gatorade on himself in the process.

I reached back for the bottle, and in the process finished the job by not maintaining the bottle's equilibrium and dumping some more on the seat, floor, and bag of apples we'd purchased at the farm.

Worse? I had no napkins in the glove compartment. I pulled a tissue -- unused, I believe -- from my pocket, and did my best to dry Ben's arm. No such dignity for the Saturn, though. The carpets and seats were forced to air dry on the way home.

Barely 18 hours later, I was on the road again, headed to New York, when after two cups of coffee I decided to forego a third and instead open a Poland Spring orange seltzer I had brought along.

I hadn't thought the ride had been too bumpy, but I guess storing the bottle upside down didn't help. The next thing I knew, I was wearing some seltzer, but my seat got the worst of it. Still no napkins in the glove compartment, so I had to drive with the windows down and the vents blowing in fresh air so at the very least my pants would dry by the time I disembarked at the corporate office an hour later.

As I pondered my liquid klutziness, a warning on the seltzer bottle caught my eye:

"Contents under pressure. Open slowly. Away from face."

Please add, "Away from car seat."

In addition to having missed my face with the cap and the liquid, the other silver lining was I don't think the seltzer will stain. For all I know, it might actually help remove the existing blotches.

One thing about which I am certain: I will listen to Brandy's seat advice when I zero in on my next car. Whatever replaces the Saturn will have leather seats.