I just spent 10 minutes jockeying two cars around so I could squeeze a third one into our driveway. As I gingerly backed the third car in, I saw the driveway framed in my mirror and it set me to thinking.

Our extended but downhill driveway has been equal parts joy and frustration for 17 years. The first thing I learned from it was that should I ever consider buying another house, I will make sure the driveway is flat as Victoria without her secret.

When my babes were preschool age, the driveway was a wonderful spot to draw huge chalk murals. However, the chalk would regularly roll down into the gutter if left unattended. It was, however, most cooperative in providing terrific places for stick-and-leaf boat races when it rained. It was also a glorious place to draw a racetrack for our tricycles, but the slope added speed to some turns that delighted my children and horrified me.

In another few years, I’d catch them lying down on skateboards, dad’s car repair gurney, the vacuum cleaner or anything with wheels so they could rocket top to bottom. It was quite a sight to see me hurl myself at them bodily to stop them from flying into the street and the path of a car. They found it hilarious. I still have scars.

That sloping driveway made learning to ride a bike more treacherous. It has also made it impossible to properly check a car’s oil or any other vital fluid on site. The first step in every set of directions is “Be sure car is level before checking.”

Every time I clean out the garage, I have to arrange the flotsam and jetsam so that nothing important rolls away. I have nearly collapsed a lung chasing escaped balls over the years and we have lost more than one toy to the storm drain. This summer it is home to five vehicles on a regular basis, with first three home getting driveway privileges. I can’t prove the incline has contributed to the number of times my children have backed into my car, but I strongly suspect it.

The nefarious driveway has been the source of at least one note from the homeowner’s association thanks to leaky cars and spilled art and science projects. All I can say about that is we have purchased a power washer and we plan to use it soon.

I will forever be required to schlep groceries, trashcans and anything from the car up an incline, like Sisyphus and the rock. Every blasted time I open the car door to get out, I’m working against gravity, hoisting up myself and my oversized purse. Funny how it’s gotten harder than it used to be. Gravity has been no friend of mine for some time, so this just adds insult to injury.

But as I looked out my rearview mirror, the flash of history I saw made my heart go soft. It’s where my son took first steps and my daughter walked out in her first formal. It marks our sweet arrivals and sad departures and it’s where we have rushed out to greet good friends and family.

I suppose it does deserve a good power wash.