There are many things I associate with my dad: coconut, unsweet iced tea, blue choir robes, snow coming down in March and car washes.
I don't necessarily remember this, but apparently when I was very small I used to be afraid of going through the car wash. Perhaps it was the noise or the impossibly large brushes that descended upon the car like a monster's claws -- whatever the reason I was terrified. I would cry and squirm in my little car seat. I've been told that sometimes one of my parents would get out of the car with me while the other one went through the car wash alone.
Eventually, my dad made up a song that helped make it easier for me to handle. This is what I remember:
(His hands would move along with the words, a pair of pointer fingers turned windshield wiper blades.)
(Now his hands would go the other direction.)
Now we're at the car wash
Car wash! Car Wash! CAR WASH! YEAH!
(And now jazz hands, with each cheer bringing his arms higher or wider until the end).
Actually, calling that a song seems a bit generous -- but it still helped and it's stuck with me all these years. If there's more to the song, I don't remember it now. But that little ditty and apparently the classic "Great Balls of Fire" were enough to calm me down when I was upset at the thought of the car wash. I guess music really does soothe the soul...