Yes, I said "Sweet Chariot"....

Someone is coming to drive my car home tonight. Her car, actually. She bought in Monday night, the same night we brought home our new (friggin' sweet!) ride. It's funny, because although I've bitched and moaned a fair bit about this car, the truth is that it was the best car I've ever owned.

Perhaps it was because I bought it on my own, after a nasty split from my first love. Maybe it was because it marked a whole new beginning for me, and that I was finally in the driver's seat in every way and didn't need to worry about towing around an extra 165 pounds of dead weight.


It also helped me pursue the makeup bit in that it could store a director's chair and 4 bags of makeup. It got me to Florida safely, caravaning behind my stepdad who had come to rescue me. It was great on gas. It was fun to drive. It was power everything.

It was mine.

Seven years later my life is so different. Husband, children, home, hearth. The car has been like a reliable old friend, one who would show up at any hour if I needed her. We took our first child home in that car, the ride a mother never forgets. She's shuttled us around on long Sunday drives with coffee stops and sippy cups and baby bottles and potty breaks. She's taken a beating with stains of every nature and a few bumps here and there.

So yes, she's a car. And out with the old and in with the new, right?

I guess so.

Adieu, sweet chariot. Thanks for the ride.