So…yep,
I’m forty-four today. (wooo-saaaahhhh) It’s fine. I’m fine. I mean, my forties
have been the best part of my life and except for the peri-menopausal crap and
the little lines on my face that I am really, really starting to notice, I’m
good. No, really. I figure I have made it to another year so apparently I am
doing something right. No matter how much I bitch about aging the alternative would
kinda suck.
A friend of mine
does a grateful list everyday and my kids and I have started doing one at
dinner each night. I love when Max looks at me and tells me that not only is he
grateful for my love but he is grateful for school as well. Seriously, who is
this kid I created? Dash is usually grateful for French fries and Ninjas. But,
hey, who isn’t? Along with all of the big things I am grateful for, ya know, my
kids, my whole family (Mom, Dad, Elyse, Ron, Brandon, Justin and Ethan), and my
shoes; I have a few more for today: I am not sick this week, my kids are not
sick this week, I am done grading the 9th
grade essays, I have a job, and there is a Loehman’s birthday discount with my
name on it. And now the whole car thing is done with too. Oh, wait, I should
back up and explain that one. Hmmm…I think I will back waaaaay up and tell you
the whole story. And you have to read it, cuz it’s my birthday so you have to
be nice to me. And bring me cake too.
About six years
ago, when I was still married, my husband at the time (which makes is sound
like I have had more than one, but nope, just the one. That was enough.) told me we
were going to buy a mini-van from his boss. And yes, he told me and did not ask me,
but that is for another blog at another time. If memory serves, I believe my
response had some profanity in it. I also said that if I had to drive a
mini-van I was going to paint it camouflage so no one would see me drive it or
I was going to put big red flames on it for the sarcastic irony of the situation.
And then...I owned a mini-van. Max wanted to name her Mini. I have always named
everything and it apparently has rubbed off on my children. For example, Max’s
favorite sweatshirt is named Fluffy. His second favorite sweatshirt is named
Fluffy, Jr.
And yes…everything
I have has a name.
Back to our story.
Mini was big and gun metal grey and just… a freakin mini-van. Not a happy
mommy. Sure it had more room than my first apartment and I could pack up all of
my groceries from Trader Joes without breaking any eggs, but damn it was ugly
and so…mom-like. Yuck. So, I did what any normal human being would do: I went
on-line, ordered enormous red flames and put them on the doors. This made me
absolutely fine driving the mini-van. It also pissed off my x-husband, which
was just a perk.
The flames made it
cool or rather silly and fun, but over the next six months a few things
happened because my x-husband didn’t have it inspected because he had bought it
from his boss. Yep, you know what’s coming. First the tires needed to be
replaced, then the carburetor needed to be replaced, then the breaks went out
and then the engine over-heated and caught on fire. Seriously. I was driving
home and it started smoking, I pulled over popped the hood and flames shot out.
Yes, now I had flames on the outside as well as the inside. I see the humor. I
didn’t see it THEN but I do see it now. Luckily, because the universe sometimes
seems to like me, some random stranger pulled up besides my burning car,
whipped out a fire extinguisher and put out the fire. Angels in Los Angeles.
Gotta love it.
Over the next six
years I have put a ton of money into this stupid car. However, two weeks ago,
Mini over heated and I had to replace the entire radiator and spent another
$475. Then nine days after that, I had to replace the relay fans. I still have
no idea what the hell they were but they cost $350. Then three days after that,
she over heated yet again. The idea of making the inside of the car worth more
than the whole car itself just made me cry. Remember, I am a teacher with
crappy credit so it’s not like I could just run out and buy myself a car.
However, I have really nice parents who love their grandchildren and seem to be
aware of my fear of Los Angeles public transportation. So I drove over to the
Nissan dealership by my school (she over heated one last time but I made it
there) and with my dad on my cell phone, found the most inexpensive car I could
find. A black Nissan Versa. It’s a 2012. I am driving a 2012 in 2011. This
messes with my head. Oh, and I named him Tito. If you saw him, you would say,
“Yep, he totally looks like a Tito.” No, really.
Oh, by the way, I
told the Downtown Nissan guys I would mentioned them here because as sales
people go, they were really great. They even gave me a teacher discount.
Tito is all sparkly
with no scratches or dings and doesn’t smell like cheerios and apple juice and
I have threatened my children with the destruction of Pokémon if they eat
anything in the car. Hmmm…going to need flames. Small flames. Just on the back
so I can pick out my car in the Whole Foods parking lot. Yesterday I noticed
there are a myriad of small black cars in the Whole Foods parking lot. I need
to differentiate. Yep, flames probably won’t help me find Tito, but it will
make me giggle each time I see them. Always remember, if the mommy is happy the
whole world is happy.
The funny thing
about selling Mini is it affected me more than I thought it would. I was
sitting and waiting for Tito to be polished and gassed up and I had cleaned out
Mini (man, was that a gross experience) and I sat there and starred at her
thinking that for a car I never wanted, I was sure going to miss her. She has
been in so many blogs and status updates. I will really miss pulling up to a
red light, next to some hot muscle car and the reaction was always a smile from
the driver next to me. Dates always thought my flaming mini-van was a euphemism
and would be actually surprised when they saw my car. The phrase, “You really
do have flames on your mini-van” was always said with a sense of awe. Even
Hollywood tour buses (the big double-decker ones) would point and stare and
take pictures of her. I drove my kids to their first day of kindergarten in
her. I packed my whole life into her and she was literally the vehicle that
drove me into my new life.
But now I have a
car that when you roll the windows down they actually roll back up again. The
air-conditioner works and it doesn’t make that high pitched whining sound when
I turn the wheel. It doesn’t go “clunky-clunk-clunk” when I start up the engine
and there is not one ZBar wrapper or Lego on the floor. He’s pretty and I am
one happy mommy. Even if I am forty-four today. Oh crap, I am forty-four today…
Wooo-saaaahhhh.
Okay, on to the future. There is a Loehman’s birthday discount with my name on
it.
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