Sometimes I think that if the Rat Mobile had just held out a little longer, I could have had a kitchen instead of a car. Especially since my car is practically on blocks in the pandemic parking lot that is our driveway. Yeah… first world problems I know.
But then I think about how I most likely would have had to jump start it to flee a wildfire and I hate the idea of my panicky fingers using jumper cables in the middle of the night as a policeman blares warnings at me in my pajamas and flip flops. Oh the anxiety.
I do love how my new-to-me car has a cute little dashboard car graphic that tells me exactly who has taken their seatbelt off before I’ve parked. The back-up camera is a delight. The crystal gear shift is pure Cinderella. And the little Barbie-sized speed limit signs on the heads-up display? So cute. Plus I continue to marvel at the elimination of a gas cap so I don’t have to touch it– genius.
Today we were finishing up our twice weekly soccer “recess” at the Cal Poly turf fields and Jake proudly exclaims, “I’ve come up with the best name for a car dealership!”
“Oh yeah? What is it?”
“Scamborghini,” he says, arms sweeping wide.
“Scamborghini? That sounds like a terrible place to buy a car!”
“Hmmm, maybe…”
“I actually think that’s what we’ll name your first junker car– the Scamborghiiiiiiniiii…. I can see it now.”
Or we can call it the Rat Mobile?