He owes me a manicure

Michael’s car-buying process began years ago. Many, many years ago. Since he could walk he’s been plotting and planning the day he’d eventually purchase his own set of wheels. Pretty sure he thought he should go straight from the stroller to the Power Wheels to his own car. In all those years of planning, the concept of driving a four-door vehicle, much less a four-seater, never entered his realm of possibility.

All those years of planning are, I’m sure, where I went wrong. I thought, what harm is there in letting him dream? When it comes time to actually purchase a vehicle I’m sure we’ll have some input.

This is another area where I went wrong. I forgot who I was married to Mr. Let’s Drive Something Fun! And, of course, you know what Michael ended up buying:

Do you see how low that thing sits?  Look at it compared to the Tahoe!
The window of the Tahoe is higher than the roof of the Fiero!

Because my pleas for Michael to buy a four-seat vehicle fell on four deaf ears, I broke a nail and nearly dislocated my hip last night. Because last night, I had to drive Michael’s car.

My Dad flew in yesterday afternoon at the same time the kids had piano lessons. Sean was out of town; since he couldn’t help with the driving duties, I sent Michael and Rebecca to piano lessons in his Fiero, took Amy with me to pick up my Dad, drove us over to meet Michael and Rebecca, Amy had her lesson, then they were supposed to head home and I was supposed to head to my church meeting.

But I realized Michael couldn’t take everyone home in his little car. He’d have to take mine. And I’d have to take his.

Oh my word.

Getting myself into his car is a chore. Getting out is a miracle. I had to lower myself practically to the pavement to get in. And then I had to fight gravity to get out. Thus the near-dislocation; When I arrived at my meeting, I got my left leg out but as I maneuvered to get my right leg out, my knee got caught up under the steering wheel. Only problem was I was trying to lift myself out on my left leg at the same time. The only solution was to sit back down, swing both legs out, place my belongings on the pavement (which I could easily touch since I was basically sitting on the ground) and pray like crazy to not get stuck behind the steering wheel.

And I broke a nail in the process. Hrumph.

It’s a good thing that Michael loves that car as much as he does; that’s the only thing keeping me from putting it up on CraigsList and buying him something that will haul both his siblings and whichever grandparent is visiting.

Next time he gets mad at me he better remember that.



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