Ode to my Windshield Wipers


When I lived in California, I did not realize the importance of the windshield wiper. Sure I’ve driven I-5 in the middle of the summer (can you say bug city?) and needed those babies to squeegee the bug guts off my window, but until I moved to the Midwest and drove my own car, I didn’t realize how dirty winter is and how necessary the wiper is.

See, snow falling is pretty. Really pretty.

Until it hits the streets. And then someone drives on it. And it gets brown, and dirty and oily. And then it splashes onto other cars. And as you’re driving your car, your windshield gets spotted and oily. And then it’s freezing outside and you try to use your windshield wipers only to find that your washer fluid is frozen. Or the tubes are frozen. And the nice man at the gas station tells you not to use your washer fluid because you might crack the tubes and have to have them replaced. And your dad tells you the same thing. And you drive around for two weeks with a really dirty windshield simultaneously hoping that you haven’t broken your wiper tubes AND that someone splashes a LOT of water on you so that your wipers can actually clean your windshield because it’s so dirty you can’t really see out of it.

And then the weather warms up (to the 40s) and you test them just once more and washer fluid coats your windshield and cleans it and you can see again and you marvel at how clear the world looks, almost like the first time you got glasses. And you’re so thankful you didn’t break your tubes, because who knew you could do that?

Oh yeah, and it’s going to be 60 this weekend.

The end.

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