Yesterday was a sad, sad day for Stephen. Adios to The Behemoth.
Stephen agreed to do so, although reluctantly.
Academically, he understood why we couldn't keep the truck.
We couldn't afford to fill the tank was the very least of it.
Morally, environmentally, commonsensically, it made no sense for two professors, who only have two dogs and three kids to haul around on a daily basis, to have a vehicle that can pull a dozen mobile home at once, in their driveway.
The heaviest thing we have to haul is me, and I don't think that I need a F-350 Super Duty Extended Cab to do that.
At least I hope not.
Our replacement: a 2011 Ford Fiesta.
A shock to the system to say the least.
Sirius satellite radio, so Stephen can listen to the 70s on 7 to his heart's delight.
Which, I hope, makes up for his legs being wrapped around his ears while he sits in the passenger seat.
But at least my boobs won't leave permanent dents in the windshield because I had to move the seat up to reach the gas pedal.
And I won't have the metallic taste in my mouth from my tongue coming into contact with said windshield every time I open my mouth to say something.
Imagine how clean the inside of that windshield is.
While it is smaller, and Mer thinks we've been shafted big time and she wants us to march right back to the rental agency and demand something bigger, I am not afraid to drive it.
To park it.
To move among my fellow road warriors without fear of running one of them over.
Even if I thought running one of them over might be a good idea.
Getting our weekly groceries into it may be a problem.
In all probability, we can't get all three kids into the back at the same time.
But, we can afford to fill the gas tank and feel safe, and that is all that matters.
If Mer wants more she can get a driver's licence, get her own vehicle, have someone rear end her, and then demand her own truck from the rental agency.
Today is date day for me and Stephen.
For Christmas, he bought me two tickets to the Metropolitan Opera House's production of Nixon in China, http://www.metoperafamily.org/metopera/ which we will watch on the big screen at Empire Theaters.
I love the opera.
LOVE IT!
We only get to see about two a season, but I relish every second.
In part it's because there is always so much going on here most Saturdays.
Working kids, grocery shopping, running errands, marking papers, coding data, and most importantly, visiting my mother.
Because I won't be able to see her this evening, I'm going to have lunch with her.
Stephen will collect me at 1.00, because, believe it or not, if you don't get to the opera early, you may not get a seat anywhere except the front row.
And nothing is easy to watch when your sitting in the front row of the theater.
But being at the opera makes it a little bit easier.
I've never experienced an opera in English.
Afterwards, Stephen is taking me out for a Simply for Life approved meal at the Lunar Rogue.
The kids will have to manage getting themselves back and forth to work.
I feel so decadent and deviant all at the same time.
Disappearing for an entire Saturday afternoon and evening.
I can't wait.
And the future of our Ford Focus station wagon, which I have realized is the perfect vehicle for our family, our dogs, our needs, our budget, remains up in the air.
Not knowing what will happen is causing me mucho sadness.
I want my car back.
A lot.
I'm surprised by this.
Each time Stephen brings up the possibility that we may not get our car back, I get this awful, gut wrenching feeling in my insides.
To the point where I've told him the dire life consequences if brings it up again.
Because I KNOW we are getting my car back.
I will insist upon it.
Part of it is selfish.
I don't want to have to look for another car, worry about financing it, on and on and on.
Because I already have the perfect car.
And I don't want another one.
Title Lyric: Cars by Gary Numan
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