The little runaround

In the depths of the night it occurred to me that I never did report back on the buying a family car scenario. To ensure a good night’s sleep tonight, I’ll reveal all…

Well, we opted for a Renault Clio. I can tell you that it has five doors, is dark grey and has alloys. It has a part leather interior. It smells of new car. (Mmmm. Just inhale those toxins and get high.) I expect that this short description doesn’t do it justice and that Simon could tell you more.

Only trouble is, it might still smell new, but it certainly ain’t so shiny. There are little finger marks in the dirt, around the boot opening. The alloys no longer sparkle. The little car needs a bath. And I just happen to enjoy cleaning cars.

But my reverie is broken…Achtung Frau Harris! Where do you think you’re going with your bucket of warm waxy suds, nice clean sponge and chamois leather? (Oh yes, I have all the kit.)

For cars can only be washed at special car washes or in designated zones. Certainly not outside your house or in your underground parking lot. The law is designed to protect the environment from polluting run-off. Should you breach these laws then you could be prosecuted.

So where’s a girl to find her fun? If, say for argument's sake, I willfully broke this law, do you think the authorities would let me off on the grounds of ‘nesting behaviour’?