Thursday, March 11, 2010


I drove my husband's 12-year-old car on Monday and Tuesday this week.  It needed its exhaust repair (scheduled in two days), and I didn't want him driving it an hour down in Cincy.  Tuesday was one of those pick-up, drop-off yours, mine, ours days.  Two of my kids friends got in the back of this car and were amazed first that the locks had to be unlocked with a key!  No handheld button you pressed from 50 yards away.
Second shock came at the lack of room in the backseat.  It basically fit the two kids and their enormous backpacks.  We drove from tutoring to get supper, and the fourth grade boy said, "Mrs. Mean-Median-Mode?  Why is the floor vibrating  back here?"  I explained this was a car like Fred Flinstone's, and we had to run our feet on the pavement to make it go.  Then I heard some grunting/struggling and asked if everything was OK in the back.  "Yeah!  I just got my backpack caught on that thingy cars used to have to make the windows go up and down."  Sorry kids--this car doesn't have On-Star, GPS, CD player, USB port, automatic lights, OR a video system either.  So zip it!  Eat your Subway sandwhich!  And enjoy the ride!  Yaba-Daba-Doooo!

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