Speaking of Cars . . .

Back when I was driving what we fondly called the Cruise Liner, an old blue Bonneville chosen because the back seat was big enough to hold two child seats and a strap-in infant carrier, I had one of those moments. If you’re a parent, you know what I mean.

It was a beautiful spring day, and I had just been to buy groceries with a four-year-old, a two-year-old, and an infant. I was completely worn down by the effort required to select groceries (on a tight budget) and push a buggy while managing three small children. As I was driving home, all three of the children were crying at the top of their lungs, and I really wanted to.

Just at that moment, a convertible passed me, top down. It was full of smiling girls singing along with the radio, hair blowing in the wind, not a care in the world.

I looked over at them and thought, “I’d pay a hundred dollars to be in that car right now.”

Right Answer!

When I was a teenager, I wanted a sports car. What I got was the used car my aunt and uncle were getting ready to trade in, actually a pretty nice Grand Prix that I was very proud of.

All through my married life, the kind of car I have driven depended on two things:

1. How much does it cost?
2. How many children will it hold?

Those two considerations do not usually lend themselves to vehicle purchases that gratify your vanity. So earlier this year, when the car that I’d been driving for almost eight years started to make funny sounds and break down at inopportune times, I knew my time had come. I’d been eyeing shiny red RX-8’s for several years, and nothing else would do. My husband said, “Go for it,” so I did, calling around the state until I found a dealer with one exactly like I wanted.

When my youngest son first saw my new acquisition, he called his older brother. “Can you believe the kind of car Mom got?” he asked. “How does she think I’m gonna fit in that car with them?”

“I don’t think Mom was considering you when she made the purchase,” my oldest wisely replied. “She’s been buying cars for us to fit in for years. This one’s for her.”

My daughter took one look at my car and said, “No fair!” I think that means she liked it.

Last weekend, at the Christianity & Literature conference in Oklahoma, my husband sat out in the parking lot in my car, windows down, moon roof open, enjoying the cool evening while waiting for me to come out after the lecture. After I made it to the car, he said, “You’ll never guess what just happened to me. Some young woman just walked up and said ‘Nice car! What does it take to get to ride in a car like that?’”

My eyes widened a little. “And what’d you say?”

“I said it takes being married to me for twenty-seven years.”

I smiled. “Right answer!”