Cars
It's funny how cars work in my family. It seems like we trade them down through the family until finally somebody does it in. My parents gave me their 1968 volkswagon way back when, which I drove forever--not even sure what happened to that one. My parents gave me their old white ford aerostar-extended, which my husband drove to work until we gave it to my son, who took it and wrecked it. My oldest son got a car that he sold to my daughter who sold it to my youngest son for babysitting. I gave my son my suzuki sidekick, which he tore up and then finally sold, and now I'm giving him my suzuki esteem, but I'm already mourning it. It's been a great little car, and even though I wouldn't want to be in an accident with it, it has gotten me to and from work for the last 3 years. But, he needs a car, and I'd rather him not have to go into debt to buy a car, make payments, etc. Funny how we can get so attached to inanimate objects like cars. I never gave my car a name, but I've tried to keep it clean, and take relatively good care of it. The other part of giving away a car is trying to find one to replace it. Looking for good used cars is harder than finding a good man. Either way, they usually tell you lots of lies about how they run, and they try to cover up their imperfections. However, once you find a good used car, you can usually get a few good years out of them. That's not always the way with a man. (not me, I've got a good one and he's been running well for the past 12 years, but I hear stories. I lucked out when I met my present husband, I met all of his family, and when I saw how much they wanted to keep him for themselves, I figured he must be worth something. So Happy Sunday.