Whirlwind Weekend
The weekend was pretty chaotic. On Friday I received a check for some stock that I sold back to my employer, so we decided to go out to dinner and then head to a car dealership to (gasp) look at some mini-vans. I compared various features while A picked flowers for the sales guy. She kept telling him to put the flowers in his bucket (some would call it a pocket but I see no need to split hairs here).
The dealership was about to close so we decided to come back on Saturday. I was torn between two models (both were Grand Caravans, though). One model was two grand more but had lots of extra features, such as the side doors opening and closing at the push of a button. The other model was less expensive, but had fewer miles on it. Quelle dilemma.
On Saturday morning I took A to a play group while P stained the deck. I asked some of the other moms for an opinion on the two mini-vans but the ones who drive mini-vans wouldn't admit it and the others gave me a look that said: I'm sorry to hear that, it happens to the best of us. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating/hallucinating/projecting. After some playtime at the park we headed over to the car dealership. P met us there, covered in deck stain.
Even though it meant selling the kid on the black market in order to afford it, we ultimately opted for the van with more bells and whistles. It also had much better tires than the less expensive one. The dealership people acted like they were doing us a big favor by giving us what they offered us for my Explorer. We had hoped to get more for it but after giving it more thought, decided to accept the offer. One of their service guys drove my Explorer in order to appraise it but here's what he doesn't know: the door on the driver's side no longer locks, the speedometer sticks if you drive over 65 (not that I would do that, but that's what I've heard), and one of my foster dogs chewed the wire on the rear defrost years ago and it hasn't worked since. In the winter the engine sounds like it is going into full-on death spasms. So yeah, we took the deal.
When I told my middle sister that I bought a mini-van she said, "OH, CLAUDIA MARIE, NOOOO!" Apparently I embarrassed her even from 1,000 miles away. On Sunday I tried to call a couple of my friends and they didn't answer. Coincidence? Methinks not. I'm being shunned like an Amish whore.
I left the dealership and headed straight to the airport to pick up my niece, who is visiting us for a week. She's 8 and this is her second visit out here by herself. She lives in Northern VA. Her little brother is deathly allergic to dairy and peanuts, so my niece requested that I buy her any peanut-related product that I could find. And so I did. At home she can't really eat this stuff because even if Cheese Doodle dust gets on my nephew, he breaks out in hives. My sister has to carry an epi-pen at all times.
We left the airport and met P and A at a 4th of July party. We only stayed for about an hour because Short Stuff had refused to take a nap in the afternoon and was on the verge of a meltdown.
The dealership was about to close so we decided to come back on Saturday. I was torn between two models (both were Grand Caravans, though). One model was two grand more but had lots of extra features, such as the side doors opening and closing at the push of a button. The other model was less expensive, but had fewer miles on it. Quelle dilemma.
On Saturday morning I took A to a play group while P stained the deck. I asked some of the other moms for an opinion on the two mini-vans but the ones who drive mini-vans wouldn't admit it and the others gave me a look that said: I'm sorry to hear that, it happens to the best of us. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating/hallucinating/projecting. After some playtime at the park we headed over to the car dealership. P met us there, covered in deck stain.
Even though it meant selling the kid on the black market in order to afford it, we ultimately opted for the van with more bells and whistles. It also had much better tires than the less expensive one. The dealership people acted like they were doing us a big favor by giving us what they offered us for my Explorer. We had hoped to get more for it but after giving it more thought, decided to accept the offer. One of their service guys drove my Explorer in order to appraise it but here's what he doesn't know: the door on the driver's side no longer locks, the speedometer sticks if you drive over 65 (not that I would do that, but that's what I've heard), and one of my foster dogs chewed the wire on the rear defrost years ago and it hasn't worked since. In the winter the engine sounds like it is going into full-on death spasms. So yeah, we took the deal.
When I told my middle sister that I bought a mini-van she said, "OH, CLAUDIA MARIE, NOOOO!" Apparently I embarrassed her even from 1,000 miles away. On Sunday I tried to call a couple of my friends and they didn't answer. Coincidence? Methinks not. I'm being shunned like an Amish whore.
I left the dealership and headed straight to the airport to pick up my niece, who is visiting us for a week. She's 8 and this is her second visit out here by herself. She lives in Northern VA. Her little brother is deathly allergic to dairy and peanuts, so my niece requested that I buy her any peanut-related product that I could find. And so I did. At home she can't really eat this stuff because even if Cheese Doodle dust gets on my nephew, he breaks out in hives. My sister has to carry an epi-pen at all times.
We left the airport and met P and A at a 4th of July party. We only stayed for about an hour because Short Stuff had refused to take a nap in the afternoon and was on the verge of a meltdown.
The pace slowed down on Sunday. I took the girls to church. I then made a two-hour round trip to drop off one foster dog and pick up a new one (the fun never ends). The new foster is a female Boxer that I fostered in 2005. Her owner dumped her back on the rescue, which is always nice. After dinner last night we stopped at the store so that I could buy an adapter that allows me to listen to my iPod in the car. I may be a midwestern mom who drives a mini-van, but at least I can listen to some old Liz Phair or Pixies and pretend that maybe, just maybe, it's not that bad after all. Maybe.
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