And this "nut" reference is the only reference in this entire post to anything edible. So much for sugar-free food blogging.
As for my nuttiness . . . I come by it naturally. My dad is a total gear head and has owned more cars throughout his life than can be counted on both his and my fingers and toes. Now that my dad is retired, he has given up accounting to tinker with cars for
I clearly inherited the "must-buy-as-many-cars-as-possible" gene from my dad because every 12 months or so I get an itch to buy a car.
Before I was even 22 years old,
Oh, the perks of being an only child.
In fourteen years of marriage, I have
On Friday, I had two in the garage that I call my own: my mom car and this little beauty that my dad restored for me back in 2002 (before kids):
It is a 1973 MGB. It is British, which means that it is ridiculously unreliable and rarely runs. And, it is a two-seater, which means that, even if it ran, I rarely get to drive it because of the three little yard-apes that are always with me.
So, I've been talking all week about how I'd like to have a convertible bug. Not to replace my "mom car" or my MGB but "just to run around with the kids on pretty afternoons and weekends."
When I say things like that to the Great and Powerful Oz, his response is always
Who do you think you are, Princess Di?
He said it eight years ago when I asked him to pony up for my first "fancy" car:
He said it six years ago when I brought home Chanel sunglasses - that I still own and wear - thank you very much.
And, he asked the question again last week when I told him that I wanted "a weekend Bug."
The answer is always the same:
Yes. Yes. I absolutely do think that I am Princess Di.
Usually, when he plays the Princess Di card that is the end of the conversation. But, this time he shocked me by following up the princess di question by asking,
And, as I texted him back with "any color as long as it is convertible," I was thinking
....so you're saying there's a chance.
I researched new beetles all week, and yesterday morning he spent some time on the phone, using his shrewd, lawyerly negotiating skills to get us just the right deal. And, then he called out
Load up everyone.
We are going to OKC to get your mom another car.
And, even though he was okay with the whole thing . . . or we absolutely wouldn't be doing it . . . because no matter what he says, he really is in charge here . . . he had to play the grumpy card all the way to OKC.
To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure if he was grumpy because I'm once again
But, once we got to the dealership, the grump was gone, and he turned into the super hero that I know and love.
In one of the fastest car transactions ever (see, practice does make perfect), we were in and out of there in a flash . . . Me and my yard apes on the best Saturday EVER:
We all agree. We love it. On the drive home, the Tiny Princess, who sits up pretty high in her booster seat, got absolutley beat to death by the wind. But, she says, "I love the wind." Here is her "wheeeeee" face on the way home:
We had to stop at Elizabeth's on the way home to show it to Middle Man. And, she gave it a hug when he said that he didn't like it. The TIny Princess was worried that the Bug's feelings were hurt.
The Bug isn't a luxury car by any means. It doesn't have any of the fancy gadgets that my mom car has. And, I realize that only sixteen year old girls and gay men drive them, but I love it. Really love it. It might be the happiest car on the road. And, I think that Ella might be on to something because if any car has feelings it would be the Volkwagen Bug.
Well, that and Christine.
Anyway, Elizabeth and I are driving it today to Muenster for Germanfest. We are going to be the happiest thirty-somethings in a sixteen year old's car that you ever saw.
The Great and Powerful Oz is going to busy building us a new five-car garage . . . so that he has somewhere to park his truck . . . the same truck that I bought and drove for just 9 months.
Happy Sunday! Happy schnitzel!