The title to the Nanovan came in the mail yesterday. She’s all paid off! No more car payments!
Dance of Joy
General, I Love My Car
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Feb 122013
Mistaken Identity
General, I Love My Car
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Sep 022011
(Background in case you’re just tuning in: Alpha Geek and I both drive Honda Fits. We purchased them two years apart; other than their color, the cars are virtually identical.)
This morning The Director missed the bus, so I drove him to school. Alpha Geek’s car was parked behind mine in the driveway, so I just took his car.
As we were buckling in, I said, “Now let’s see if I can remember how to drive Daddy’s car.”
My son laughed. “It’s exactly like yours.”
As we were driving to school, he remembered that he needs a note for the days he was absent earlier this week. School policy is that such notes must be turned in within two days of coming back to school—i.e., today. He had paper in his backpack, but no pencil.*
“I have a pen in my glovebox,” I told him, pulling in to the drop-off-the-kid line.
He opened the glove compartment, which to my surprise was filled with stuff: paper, glasses case, who knows what.
“What is all—” I began, then facepalmed. “That’s not my glovebox.”
We wound up parking so I could go to the office and borrow a pen.
*Which I will need to ask him about when he gets home—how does one go to school without a pencil?
Nightmare on Oak Street
Dreams, General, I Love My Car
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Jul 022010
Allow me to relate the dream I had last night…
I was a character in the Nightmare on Elm Street series.
We knew Freddy was coming to get us. We were all trying to pack up and leave town ASAP. Whoever could get out might be safe as he went after the slower ones who remained.
But things kept delaying my departure. I was getting gear together, disentangling myself from people who seemed to feel I owed them my time, fighting my way through panicking crowds. The crowds got thinner and thinner as people managed to escape, while I still struggled with the logistics of getting myself out.
By the time I reached the parking lot with my bugout bag, there were hardly any people around. The place was dark and eerily quiet. I threw my stuff in the hatchback and hurried behind the wheel.
As soon as I closed the door, Kruger made his move. The car began warping and twisting. The upholstery reached around and grabbed me, pinning me down. The clean lines of the Honda Fit became organic and uneven, full of teeth and blood and claws…
…and I said, “Oh, no, my car does not do that.”
Immediately the nightmare lost its hold, the Kruger-induced contortions ceased, and the car returned to normal. I locked the door, started the engine, and sped away to safety.
Even in my nightmares, I’m too offended by assaults on my car to maintain my suspension of disbelief.