Adam got a new car. I may have mentioned this. Who can remember? His old Camry was a hand-me-down from my grandmother (it was his second from her). The Pimpmobile, so named for the gold-rimmed tires and the windows that were tinted to levels that are actually illegal in Massachusetts. He loves his fancy-shmancy new car. The GPS. The keyless start. The seats that remember who you are. That clean, nice new car smell.
He’s become a little obsessive about his car. And he declared the car a no-eating zone.
But then it became time for our vacation. And he was clearly torn. Pretty new car for hours on the road? Or slimey dirty kids in his new car for hours on the road? What to do? Old minivan? Or shiny happy car?
Car lust won. And I’m loving the look of horror on his face every time the kids open a new bag of peanut-butter crackers. Plus the kids found Radio Disney on the satellite radio. That’ll teach Adam not to have nice things!
(posting caveat: posts for the next few days are all being done on my iPhone so there may be more typos than usual.)
