Caleb’s got this 1994 Camaro, right? It’s been sitting in our garage for like, ever. Anytime one of our regular cars isn’t working, the Camaro comes out. Liability only, no air condition, no radio, and the windows won’t budge–but cruising around with the top down sure beats a rental car. I feel frivolous and wrong whenever I get behind the wheel.
Today it was so nice outside. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Merrick was in such a good mood: “Mom, SWEET! I have a new watch, a Captain America toy, and we get to drive this awesome car!” he observed as we backed down the driveway, on the way to pick the girls up from school. His happiness was contagious. It was a total Eric Carmen moment; unfortunately (or fortunately according to Cheyenne) there’s no way to play music in the Camaro, and I didn’t feel comfortable belting out “Make me lose control!” a capella.
For almost 2 months, our dear beloved old Saturn has been sitting in the 3rd car stall in the garage, or as the kids call it, “The spot of shame”. Leaking buckets of oil and electrically wigging out, we’ve pretty much written it off as dead. It’s kind of sad…but not really.
This weekend looks to be a busy one. Monday kicks off the start of softball games out the yinyang. I’ve got painting to do and Hunger Games to see, if I can wrangle some tickets for me and Cheyenne. We’ve both read through the first 2 books and I’m eager to start book 3–I’m so team Peeta that if he doesn’t wind up with Katniss by the end of the series, I will drive to Suzanne Collins’ house, and punch her in the mouth.