The two cars I’ve owned had only two doors. Since it was just me, I never needed a car with four doors.
Even that one extremely cold night in college when the girls and I decided…
- Yes, we needed to go to that frat party.
- Yes, all nine of us.
- No, we weren’t going to walk even though it was less than a mile.
Don’t judge. It was all uphill, a little snowy, unwalkable in heels, and no one looks cute bundled up in winter gear. Also…
- No, we couldn’t take two cars.
So all nine of us piled into my Ford Probe. Which was
a less cool version of this one this exact one.
How do you get 9 people in that car? Easy: 1 driver, 2 in the passenger seat, 5 in the backseat, and 1 in the trunk.
Alas, those days are long gone. Strapping a baby into a carseat in the back of a two-door with one tween and one teen (who is now taller than me) seemed like a no go.
So Kiefer and I bought a grown-up SUV.
Or so I thought. My grown-up car has mood lighting.
I may have just bought every 16-year-old boy’s dream car.
I’m totally going to get some.
Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Good news: IKEA sells cats. Bad news: Once you’ve gotten the tabby 3/4′s assembled, they hobble under the sofa, hiss at you and won’t come out.”—1pointperspective