Scott has known The Mister for a lot longer than I have, and understands what a
He and The Mister talked about this "beauty":
Please note that it is the ultimate Grandma car. When I stated my hesitation about the selected vehicle, I was left out of any further discussion.
I also did not say that The Mister is the one who inadvertently gets the Senior Discount at some area restaurants (even though at 57, he is a few years shy of the target age).
I'll never be as old as him.
But back to the important subject - ME.
Yes, I know I'm a grandma. But I'm a cool grandma, not an 'apron-wearing, cookie baking and food making and spoil the grandkids rotten' kind of'...oh wait, yes I am.
That isn't what I meant to say.
Maybe I need to explain it in pictures.
I am a fun grandma. I am not so hip (or funky) that I look like THIS (though I have been plagued by the ravages of gravity):
But there's no way I'm ready to be THIS woman:
I don't even have gray hair yet, except for that one hair that came in on the top of my head all looking like a question mark, so that I resembled Cindy Lou Who from the Grinch movie.
And only the gray haired "My, haven't you grown!" kind of grandma would be caught driving that boat of a car (aka The SS Retirement).
It's a slippery slope, I tell you. Just a couple of trips in the "senility machine", and I'll have shrunk so much that I can't see over the steering wheel, like this grandma:
My mind had wandered so far away at this point that I may
When Scott had finished regaling The Mister with the benefits of owning the Geritol Wagon, it was The Mister's turn to describe what he was looking for in my replacement car.
The Mister, ever devious, purposely made the grownup kids all take turns sitting beside him on the couch, just so any loose change they had would end up in the couch cushions. He said later that any change he found would go into my car fund.
The Mister talked about the budget (like my happiness can be measured in dollars...well, I guess that depends on how many zeroes are to the left of the decimal point). He had a target figure in mind for the down payment, as well as any loan amount.
I showed The Mister what model I liked, then asked him what his choice would look like. Let's do a comparison, shall we?
First, I pointed out how the Nothing to Look Forward to But Death Car would be a gas guzzler, and that it's Titantic-resembling size would be difficult for me to park. True, it only has 38,000 miles on the odometer, even though it is almost seven years old.
Here's a car that I think will fit into our budget:
Here's a car that The Mister thinks is perfect for me:
It has a similar body style, and can provide me with excellent mileage, and loads of fresh air (not to mention all the added protein I'll get from the bugs that get stuck in my teeth).
You know, the Social Security Sedan is looking better all the time.