Baby, You Can Drive My Car
I’m not going to be a star or anything, I’m just going to Wisconsin this weekend to get my new-to-me car. Since March I’ve been driving my mom’s car because I sold my van. My dad found me a car, but it needed some parts… like, an engine, for one.
I grew up never really knowing what vehicles we’d have around the house from day to day, so driving my mom’s car around for a while wasn’t a shock to my system. It was, however, a big deal. Literally. See, my mom’s car is a Cadillac DeVille. It’s a big car. I have trouble turning it and I try to park it so I don’t have to back it up because I can’t tell where the corners are on it. Add to that the fact that I’m extremely nervous about damaging my mom’s car and it’s been a harrowing few months.
Still, there are worse things in the world to drive than a Cadillac. In fact, the heated seats have come in handy lately. I’ve got less and less tolerance for cold, it seems, so they’ve made early morning rides to work a bit less unbearable.
But Mom’s missed her car and mine’s ready to go, so back it goes. And it just so happens to coincide with my niece and nephew’s birthdays, so good timing, eh?
So, if you need a ride to and from Wisconsin this weekend, give me a holler. I’m not leaving until after my improv show, so you’ve got plenty of time to pack. The ride up’ll be nice. The ride back? I guess we’ll see!