Goodbye, Old Friend

All summer, as we wondered how our future would unfold (would we move, would we stay,) we've known that we'd need to be squished either at home or in the car once the baby comes. Not moving meant we'd instead upgrade to a bigger vehicle--which we did last week! It's an '03 Suburban with 40K miles, leather, sunroof, dvd and a lot of other computerized features that, frankly, we don't know how to operate yet. It was a great deal and we love it. We bought it through Carmax and will probably never shop at a regular dealership again. It was so easy!! And such a slick system. You can't believe how much time is saved when your salesman doesn't have to "go talk to his manager" every 3 minutes. We left feeling happy and satisfied and without a trace of a pit in our stomachs. We highly recommend it.

Despite the excitement of getting a new vehicle, our sentimental kids spent a little bit of time lamenting the disappearance of the good old van. (Waah, I miss the van, blah, blah, blah.) Even Rick saw the van (after we sold it and were cruising past on the freeway during our first drive in the Suburban, heh heh) sitting in the Carmax parking lot "all alone, under a lamppost" and felt a little like we were betraying an old friend. I, on the other hand, was ready to say goodbye. The list of (airquotes, please) "little things" going wrong with the van has been growing and growing and even though it was a great vehicle for us, our relationship was wearing thin. I believe the van sensed this very thing and was trying to ease the blow for us. Or for it. Like a defense mechanism.

Case in point: Literally on the way to Carmax to buy the Suburban, we stopped for gas because the van was on empty (no, we didn't fill it up) and for a quick carwash because everyone knows that a clean car distracts a dealership from things like rust and dings and broken power locks and a broken power door and 134,000 miles when they're appraising trade-in value. Duh. So, we're sitting in the carwash and the windshield cracks. From top to bottom. Right then. In the carwash! Also in the carwash, I notice that the gas gauge it still on 'empty' and the gaslight is still on. Now I know $20 doesn't buy as much gas as it used to, but really, I KNOW we just put fuel in. And the gauge didn't do that 'register late' thing after we drove away, or after Rick stopped to get some food in me (your windshield shouldn't break during a low blood sugar moment), or when we got to the dealership. Also, the anti-lock brake system light turned on, whatever that means. I blame the carwash and Murphy's Law and especially the van, even if it was just trying to get some last minute attention.

Like I said, the old friend made it easy to say goodbye. I like to think of it's lonely night under the lamppost as a well-earned, quiet retreat after 5 years of faithfully hauling us around. Or a timeout. Did I mention it's really nice driving a newer car?? Excuse me while I do a little dance. And run to the garage to make sure the big new thing is still there in all it's shiny glory.

It is.