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Tag Archives: Jeep

Accidents and the drive to feel pretty

The windows are rolled down, the day is gorgeous and the wind is dancing in my hair, which just so happens to be fabulously clean. I’m working the stylish shades, flashing the Colgate smile and pretending to all I pass that I am just another young sexy thing in my young sexy car. Good thing I’m going at least 30mph. I couldn’t pull this off without the blur factor.

I’m not bold enough to roll back the soft top to drive at optimal coolness. Well, actually I’d have to take off the doors if we’re really talking optimal. But no matter, I am satisfied just being in this midlife crisis mobile and feeling like a rock star.

I shied away from driving it for the last couple of weeks because, I don’t know, it was so high off the ground and I had gotten used to the feel of a car, even if that car is a minivan. Plus it was all new and shiny, and I’m one of those old and dull people who kind of fall in love with comfortable.

It certainly would explain my closet where the only time I get new things is when my mother brings them over. I’m content in my well-worn wear. It’s so easy just picking up yesterday’s outfit off the floor or grabbing a new set of old gym clothes. Don’t judge.

But today I felt a little pressure to step it for the new car, so I was wearing my better old clothes with my newly washed hair and got a string of compliments. Really, have I set the bar so low that all it takes is washing my hair for people to notice? Well, there’s something to be said for that.

Still… Soft, creamy fabric, the clip clap of strappy shoes, the hot new car – it all makes me want to twirl and dance and smile for the cameras. It’s true that feeling pretty feels pretty fabulous. I guess I forget that sometimes since I’m usually feeling pretty tired or pretty lazy or pretty who gives a shit.

The only reason I’m driving the car today is because of an unfortunate altercation between me, my minivan and a stupid tree, that apparently showed up unexpectedly while I was backing up. And of course on this one day, my car’s rear sensors which always beep when things unexpectedly show up behind me weren’t on. But I’m not here to make excuses, well, except those already noted.

The aftermath was a broken rear taillight and a few minor dents and scratches. Nothing compared to some of the driving malfunctions I have inflicted on my poor mom machine. Like when I drove over the divider and got stuck. That was hysterical. Or when I crashed into a boulder right after it was fixed. Good times. So, really this was nothing.  Except that without my passenger side brake light and blinker working, it was no longer drivable.

For the time being, I will have to drive the new car.  Which means, until further notice, I’ll be sporting clean hair and might need to go shopping. I’ll also need to be extremely conscious of surprise agriculture and such.

I already miss the minivan.

Stupid tree

Stupid tree

 

 

Aw look, it’s a new baby Jeep

My husband stood outside in the sun, still flush with the excitement from the delivery of his beautiful new baby. The look in his eyes said it all. Love. Pure and simple.

He had waited for so long for this day and now she was here in the flesh, or um, in the chrome and steel. Yes, cigars all around, we are now the proud owners of a Jeep Wrangler.

“Hey boys!” He called out excitedly to our children, “Come look at the new car. Isn’t it so cool?”

But our boys are too cool for cool. My oldest barely raised his brow, my middle one shrugged unimpressed and said, “Eh. It’s alright.”

But my little guy eagerly ran over to his daddy who scooped him up and looked at him expectantly. “I know how to spell Gum!” He exclaimed.

But stars in the eyes cannot so easily be put out. “We’re going for a drive!” My husband yelled, refusing to hear the chorus of boos from the mini peanut gallery.

We all piled in and started to drive as my husband pointed out what button did what and all the beloved features of his new baby. He took a deep satisfying breath. “Smell that?” He asked, his eyes a glimmer, “Nothing like new car smell.”

“This is so boring,” My middle guy droned.

“Where are we going?” My oldest wanted to know.

“Mommy, I had three brownies at the party,” My youngest confessed.

We drove through the wealthy part of our town where Richie Rich Mansions overlook the sound; so close yet quite untouchable with its own police department. It is beautiful and mouth dragging, except to the chorus in the back.

“Why can’t we live here?” Middle demanded accusingly.

“Why are we here?” Oldest whined annoyingly.

“Can we go play at that one?” Youngest wanted to know, pointing to a massive home with a Bentley and a Rolls parked on the drive and surrounded by its own ponds with a rowboat sitting idle.

We in the front do our best to enjoy riding in a cool car without a roof, the wind in our hair and visions of our twenties spread out before us like an open road.

But it is hard to ignore those in the back driving us crazy.

With nowhere to off road or the possibility of leaving our kids by the side of one, we head home. The boys climbed out, grateful to be released from what was apparently ‘the most boring ride ever’ and ran in the house to engage in more stimulating activities like sitting on the couch and playing with iPhones.

“Are you coming in?” I asked when my husband lingered in the driveway.

“In a minute,” he said, his eyes fixed on the perfect form, beautiful coloring and shiny exterior.

I nodded and left the two of them alone. I had a feeling he would be spending a lot of quality time with this new baby, the one who didn’t talk but purred.

Right now I think it’s his favorite.

Proud papa

Proud papa