My poor car. You still look good old girl. Please don’t die on me…
Dear Peacemobile:
I know we have had our differences these past few years. I just want you to know that I am truly sorry if you think that I have wronged you!
You are getting older, and are starting to have some physical issues, and as much as I want to help you I can’t. You’ve been so good to me. I’ve told you stories about how my old Plymouth Duster literally fell apart, when its window fell into the door in the parking lot. You’ve been with me so long, and now you’re starting to have troubles. It started with the front end, didn’t it? I wanted to fix you but I couldn’t afford it. So we settled for a zip tie. I know how it feels to no longer look fashionable. My front is sagging too. Now you have undercarriage issues. So do I, on humans I believe it is called a “muffin top”.
Redneck repair and a repair that needs to be made, desperately…
Your insides are a mess. So are mine. I believe yours is from me just forgetting to pick things up. Mine is from not eating right.
And the battery. My husband tried to resurrect you, but the battery was a goner. The battery transplant was a success. So far it’s all working well. That is one thing we could do to keep you going. Nine years on one battery is pretty good. And we have never done any of those no-nos, like shocking someone who was bitten by a snake-it’s actually written as a “don’t” in the American Red Cross First Aid Manual.
Yesterday I didn’t mean it to happen. I just couldn’t get home fast enough. The only thing I could have done was put electrical tape on it. I sure hope that antenna didn’t harm anyone as it went flying down the interstate. I am so sorry that you can no longer receive any radio stations. Be happy we have an Ipod and CDs. And I won’t apologize for all the times that I’ve gone down the highway singing “Jesus Take the Wheel” as loud as possible, or “Hillbilly Bone”, or any of that stuff. You know I’m an excellent singer.
Oh where, oh where has my antenna gone? It’s somewhere on I-35, kind of like on the Allstate Mayhem commercials, except not as funny.
I don’t mean to stare at other cars. I can’t help it. I wasn’t thinking when I posted that picture of the purple Prius on Pinterest. I didn’t think you were listening when I said my next car may very well be a Volkswagon Beetle. Come on, you know I can’t afford a new car. I didn’t mean it! And I know that you may be jealous of your new adopted brother, the Nissan. He is very shiny and roomy and all, but we love all of our cars equally.
I’m not cheating on my car! I just love purple and I want a Prius someday! Just like I love my husband but put Thor on my last post!
How have I shown that I still care? I made you jewelry. I made you “custom” seatcovers. I even bought you body art.
Look at all I’ve done for you!
I’m asking you to help me out. I need you to PLEASE stick around. Don’t leave me! I need you. Without you, I go nowhere. I am stuck if you can’t run. Please hang around, at least a couple more years! Thank you for listening. Your reward will be a half tank gas on payday.
Your faithful owner for the last nine years,
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
The Sadder But Wiser Girl 