This weekend I bought a new car. Actually, Dan bought me a new car and for that I cannot thank him enough. What a husband. He misses out on a lot of the day to day with Cohen and I know that he struggles with that, but still he goes to work to bring home the bacon so I can stay at home and tend to our daughter. On top of all of this he sold his Texas cop car, his only true love, despite the deepness of his affection for Cohen and I. Had Dan gotten to have it his way, I would be driving the Texas cop car with Cohen in it and he would get to feel safe knowing that no one would dare try to pass or speed in the presence of his wife and daughter. This is in fact why Dan cherished that car as if it were our safety and well being incarnate. To him, it was. This is the Texas cop car, may it rest in peace.
Instead, I wanted a Discovery, a Rodeo, an SUV I could feel cool in. I rationalized needing something this size to get around town with both the baby and the dog in tow, not as easy as one might think when there is still a good chance that the dog might eat the baby, if not accidentally pop one of her eyes out with his huge paw while jumping over her to bark at a flag flying in front of a car dealership.
Dan suggests a minivan. Perhaps the MILF mobile.
Not only do I make the mistake of promising to call about it because it is in fact still under warrantee, but I also mention it to Dans mother before realizing that she has no idea what a MILF is. Meanwhile Dan is in the office laughing as he taunts me to go ahead and explain it to her. I begin, you know, a Mom Id like to @..*! I expect she must know what the F stands for. She does not. Not in anyway. Dan is in stitches in the office. Fuck. I say fuck, but now she has forgotten what it was I was explaining to her and now I have just said fuck to her for no reason. So I explain that a MILF is a Mom Id Like to Fuck. Not me really, its not an expression I use. They do. Who uses this expression, she asks? I am in an awkward place. Uncomfortable? Yes. As uncomfortable as I would be if I were forced to drive this van? I dont think so. Id rather explain a Turkish Snowcone to the PTA than drive this van.
However, in order to get my new car I had to sell the Ford Explorer Dans parents had given us. This money would go towards our new purchase, so naturally I wanted to get as much as possible for the truck. While discussing with Dan and my mother in law the lowest offer I would be willing to accept Dan offered some insight to my situation. While attempting to make a generalization about a culture with a precursor to avoid sounding racist Dan proceeded to say that many Mexican mechanics (it had been exclusively Mexican men that had inquired about the truck) would be willing to work on a car bought by someone in their family as a courtesy, therefore I should not undercut my selling price for fear of the work that the person who buys it will have to put into it. However, before Dan can finish his thought, into which he put every effort possible to be politically correct, his mother interjected. It went like this.
Dan: Not to sound racist but many Mexican mechanics are willing to work on a car bought by someone in their family. . .
Dans Mom Because they have nothing else to do?
Dan No. No that is not all at what I am saying!
Long racist story short . . .
I took $1000 less than my original asking price from the second person to look at it, because the first guy had irritated me so much I could not bear the idea of meeting with one more Mexican man that would pretend not to speak English as a low balling tactic. I learned that men do this from my one day as an exotic dancer (read as dayshift stripper in a non alcohol serving establishment) in downtown Phoenix, many years ago, only then my amigos were negotiating lap dances not automobiles.
We took our funds downtown and bought me a Volvo Station wagon the very next day! While we did spend some time looking at minivans, in the long run I explained to Dan that I have a hard enough time feeling good about myself as it is right now. So when I say I am not up to driving a minivan, no matter the warrantee, no matter the mileage, and that I need some support, he supports me.
The people we were buying the Volvo from were in their early 50s and had a 4 year old son. For some reason when I asked how old their son was the mother felt compelled to mention out of his hearing range that they had a surprise pregnancy later in life. Feeling awkward to be receiving such personal information I responded by telling her not to sweat it we had an engagement baby. Engaged in June, pregnant by July! I know thats awkward. I have got to stop consoling awkward people with my own awkwardness, it just isnt fair to Dan.
While we were driving the car the 4 year old asked his parents if we were going to buy their car. They said they hoped so to which he replied, How rude! We got it home and couldnt wait until the morning to touch all the buttons and see how it worked. Here are the buttons.
What I did not realize at the time of purchase was the danger zone I was entering purchasing a car with this many buttons while married to Dan. It is common knowledge that I am about 3 inches taller than Dan, and this does account for some moving forward and backward of the driver seat, I can handle that. What is a little harder to handle is that when a button geek gets into a car like this, a button geek that is Dan, he must not only adjust the proximity of the driver seat to the steering wheel, he must also adjust the air conditioning, rear tilt, steering wheel tilt, height of the seat, radio stations, open the sunroof without showing me the button that closes it, reset the clock, reset the odometer, etc. I had to drive for 10 minutes today thinking that the air conditioner in my NEW CAR!! was broken until I figured out how to undo what Dan had done and got it working again. But I did, and I love my new car. I feel like a cool mom in my new car. And when I drove my Volvo station wagon to the store today, while Cohen slept for the 7 minutes that she was willing to nap for the day, I forgot all about banging my head against the wall earlier because she would not stop crying, I forgot that I lost the part of the curtain rod that attaches to the wall to hang the curtains I am getting around to hanging 2 months after moving into this house, I forgot about that baby that within 30 seconds would be awake and screaming, and for 6 minutes and 30 seconds I was just a 28 year old that had always wanted a Volvo driving a Volvo.