Vroom Vroom

We bought the truck last night.
It's silver...but I'll try not to hold that against it.
After coming from a family that owned several red cars in succession, and then going on to buy a red car, and then watching one's mother and sister go on to buy more red cars, not red was really my only color requirement.

I've never bought a new car before. And I know that they lose their value the minute you drive them off the lot but seriously, how can you resist that smell?!? The "new car" smell is awesome - it's the smell of hopes and dreams and clean plastic - like a weather girl who's had one too many cheek implants.

If I ever get a brain tumor, I hope one of the symptoms is that I keep smelling "new car." (It's almost an even trade-off)

So the truck is beautiful and shiny and quiet and everything a new truck should be. We also negotiated free maintenance for two years, free tires for life, and an 8-year bumper-to-bumper warranty, which means that we'll pay the truck off long before we have to pay for any repairs.
All in all, we got a very good deal.

But you want to know what the best part of last night was? It wasn't when they handed us the new keys or when we finally drove the truck off the lot.
No.
It was when we turned in the titles to our POS, falling apart hunks-of-junk trade-ins.

You guys.
These cars.
Oh, these cars.
The work we've had done to these cars would have paid for our new truck, hands down. We've replaced radiators and axles and shocks and belts and computers and all kinds of doo-hickey mechanisms that make the cars run.
We've been stranded on the side of the road more frequently than I care to remember.
We've lost sleep and money and our sanity to these cars.

Yesterday, during the day, I found out my A/C didn't work.
Brian almost lost a wiper on the way to the dealership.

Clearly, it was time to say goodbye to these cars.

As we drove to the dealership, I wondered if, despite our long, stormy past, I'd feel a pang of remorse as I saw my car, the Red Rocket, being driven away.
Turns out the only pang of sorrow I felt was for the dealership, because now the Red Rocket was THEIR problem.
And Brian? Well, let's just say that his car was named after his ex-wife, "because," he explained, "it gives me so much shit."

Lol.

So Hasta la vista, cars.
You'll be missed
...like a hole in the head.