There's been a lot of car talk in our house these days.
Many of you know the long saga of our Subaru Forester. It pains me to recall all the money we've put into that car. Even selling one to pay for the repairs on this one. I am doubly pained right now, because fresh off of spending a mint (well, a mint in our world) to repair it, we've now decided that it's time to say farewell and trade it in. It needs more work, and I don't have the stomach to drop any more coin into bandaging up this car which has provided me with stress. And extra weight gain. And the mouth of a sailor.
So, our plan is to trade it in and get me some reliable wheels for hauling the children. And other people's children.
George, also needs a car, and so we've been looking for a great deal.
And just what does he find? (Ok, boys, begin drooling now if you are into retro vehicles.)
A 1974 Dodge Dart. Green. Four door. Black leather top.
With, get this, only 8000 miles on it. As they say in shop-talk, "It purrs like a kitten."
I told him I would entertain it, if, and only if, we can first secure a solidly sound family vehicle. But, I have to admit, the price is good. The mileage terrific, the look . . . 1970's television detective. Barnaby Jones, maybe?
It sounds crazy, right?
Except that this car only needs to take George back and forth to work. That's it. Retrofit it with seat belts and bam.! A car for a pretty darn low price.
So, in discussing cars, we've learned that Harper is a sucker for the "hot" cars. She wants Dad to get a corvette.
Not bloody likely.
And Zane? When we asked him what kind of car Daddy should get, he pointed to the red Nova parked on a side street.
Like father like son.