The picture of optimism

It’s been a while since we’ve had a Fiero report. And that’s because it’s been a while since the Fiero would start. It spent the winter parked in our driveway just taking up space. Which was fine, because we promised Michael we would simply store it until he graduated and he figured out what to do with it.

But last weekend when Sean and Michael were supposed to be mowing the yard, they got to tinkering with the little red car. And the two of them decided that the diagnosis they received when the car broke down last fall was incorrect. And that they, after looking under the hood and getting greasy, knew what was wrong with it. And that it just couldn't cost as much as the dealer up at Michael’s school told them it would cost.

People, if you are ever looking for the definition of optimism, look no further. 

So this past weekend, we rented a U-Haul trailer, loaded up the little red car, and dropped it off at our local Chevy dealer, which could also be known as our 4^th child, considering how much of our money has gone there.

Michael was ecstatic. He loves his car and the thought of getting it running again was almost more happiness than his heart could bear. Sean was thrilled at seeing his son so happy. He, too, loves that little two-seater. Amy was happy that the third parking spot in the driveway is finally all hers. And Rebecca was happy about the prospect of riding shot-gun with her big brother again.

I am cautiously optimistic. I know it’s going to cost more than the boys think. And as the Budget Queen, it will be up to me to tell them what’s in the budget. It will ultimately be up to Sean to decide what to do, but I am hoping we won’t open the financial faucet again for this 30 year old car.

And yet, when I saw my son beam as he maneuvered the car off the trailer, and laugh because it was almost like driving it, and nearly cry tears of joy at the thought of it working again, I wanted to shout, “Have all the money! Fix it!” 

Pretty sure the two colleges we’ll be paying this year won’t feel that way, and I know I’ll get my emotions in check as soon as dollar signs flash into view, but man, I want that car to work again.

If only it were as easy to fix as his first ride.