I’ve Cleaned Out My Car: Will Fresh Milk Neutralize Moldy Cheerios?

"What are you doing?"
– "Just cleaning the car."
"What for? Looks fine to me." 
– "'Going on a road trip tomorrow, we may take one of my friend's kids. It's a little gross in here."
"Don't exaggerate, it's not so bad. Have you seen other parents' cars? People can be real pigs."
– "Yeah, well, still. I have my pride, and it's gross in here."
"Well, hurry up and close the door, it's %$^&n' freezing out there."

This was a conversation I had with a moldy Cheerio I discovered under my daughter's car seat.
Once both child restraint units are removed, what's left behind is a petrified collection worthy of a natural history museum.
If anything is missing in your house: your favorite pen, a sock, your deodorant stick, a dessert fork…remove the kids' seats. The treasures are jammed into that crease between the seatback and the bottom of the captain's chair. You know the spot: that area that always compresses your finger joints when you try to 'properly' install the car seat.

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By the way, the baby bottle you thought you'd lost – which was unfortunate because it was part of a collection you were going to re-gift for your neighbor's shower – it's under the passenger's seat.
The rattle which matched the activity blanket you were going to hand down to your sister in lieu of something new? That can be found under the driver's seat. Sure, the rattle's dusty, but it's not cracked….maybe I could still….nah. That's gross. Sis wouldn't know, but I would; the first time her kids got the croup, boy would I feel guilty.

 

When a sandwich becomes rigid after 6 weeks exposure to a Canadian winter, can it just be called a cracker and eaten anyway…with hummus or something?
I have a philosophy that any food found in the car remains edible, as long as whatever's stuck to it doesn't make that ripping sound as it's pulled away.

I suppose it's all worth it. After all, my gagging will subside eventually, to be nullified by a feeling of serenity and grace when I sit behind the wheel of my (temporarily) clean car.
And I also suppose the moldy Cheerio is preferable to the kids' ganja joints I'll find under the driver's seat ten years from now.
Although, when I clean the car again in 2022, I won't be scolded by a splif the way I was by that smart-assed Cheerio.

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