It usually happens like this: I spot a gorgeous old car in our neighborhood - a mid 60’s volvo in baby blue, a rusty old ‘69 mustang, or in this case the prettiest red Rambler you’ve ever laid your eyes on.
And then I look at Brent and say “Oh please! Please please can we buy a car just like this one? It’s perfect for weekend trips out of town and late afternoon drives to the top of twin peaks. It doesn’t need a/c (thanks to our temperate climate) or even a radio (we sing outloud everywhere anyway)- please please please!?
And then he’ll say “You planning to put a carseat in the back of that thing?”
and then I’ll think about it and decide that maybe it’s not the best choice for an impending bambino. Except this weekend - this particular car DID have a carseat in the back and I took it as a sign that maybe a lovely old ride like this is exactly what we need for our little family of three.
please please please?!?
