Monday, June 6, 2016

Common Sense Rule #7

Never underestimate a girl's love for her vehicle.

Friday morning I woke up and the first thing on my agenda was to take my car to West O in Milford to block off parking spots for the food truck since we would be arriving after they opened.

There was nothing in that 14 mile drive that gave me any cause for concern. I parked the van, pulled the keys, and got in the car with Mark...who immediately told me I parked in the wrong spot so he got out to put the van where he thought it should be. No big deal and still no concern over leaving the van.

About 3:30, we arrived back at West O for our evening event. I went to move my vehicle and realized that (oops) I had left the keys in the other car. Not a big deal, I have an extra key in a magnetic container under the vehicle for those moments when I lock my keys in the van.

I put the extra key in the ignition, the van started, and promptly died. Strange, so I tried again. In fact, I tried about six times, ago with the same result.

I went to Mark, told him the problem, so he went to check for himself. Conclusion: starter finally kicked the bucket. At 259,000 miles Mark is sure that this is a sign of repairs to come.

It's not pretty anymore. My black sheep has a cracked window. The rear passenger door doesn't work. The air doesn't work. The rear window wiper doesn't work. And those are the obvious issues.

When Mark told me there was probably going to come a day, soon, where it was decided that the repairs weren't worth being made, I teared up a little.

This van has 142,000 miles of my life on it. Four and a half years of college. Vacations. Ball games. Happiness. Tears. Laughter. This has been a second home for me.

I love my black sheep. It's not pretty anymore, but it's still mine.

So for now I'll enjoy the time I still have to drive it. I'll roll the windows down, sing Raspberry Beret at the top of my lungs, and embarrass my boys. Hopefully I will have one more summer to play race car mom before the natural progression of life, and cars, make yet another change I can't control.