As I’m sure you’ll recall, we had two cars in OurTown. Gack. I never wanted to be a two-car family, but there was my husband all working in another country, and there was I in the boonies, with groceries to buy across town and kids doing sports in completely different villages than the one we lived in, and we kind of each needed a car. There went the last shred of my environmentalist cred, poof. So I had this utterly adorable little green 2000 Twingo with a sunroof and a cassette player and a motor that may actually have been scavenged from an electric mixer. It was so cute, but when we went up hills I had to make everybody lean forward so we could pick up enough speed.
DrBob had the opposite: a giant shiny black lowrider Opel Omega station wagon with 6-CD changer, heated seats, air conditioning, a giant forty skillion horsepower engine, the manly works. We could’ve lived in that thing. We called it the Dadmobile.
But with one thing (stupid German bureaucracy) and another (very well-founded fear of stupid Dutch bureaucracy) we wound up leaving both cars in Germany with a cousin so he could sell them for us (anything you need in southeast Bavaria, we have a cousin for that) and then we Didn’t Have a Car. Now, DrBob – I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this – happens to be both German and male. Being carless is a serious blow to his… something. Not sure what, but I could tell that although he was sort of kidding when he pretended to cry about it, he was also sort of not kidding.
So today we bought a car! DrBob found it on the internet: this one! (better click fast, I dunno how long that page’ll be there, since we done bought the car) One of the last first-generation Twingos, but black! And shiny! With air conditioning and an engine so powerful you could conceivably pass another car! It’s like my Twingo and the Dadmobile squished into one! After we shook hands with the salesman I could see a certain tension just flow out of DrBob. I’m happy to see him happier, but I can’t help snickering a bit.
Today’s song du jour of the day may or may not be relevant to the rest of the post. I don’t know, since I have no freaking idea what it’s about: Si me pare, by Alban Skenderaj. Partly because I know y’all are dying to find out what Albanian floppy-haired boy-pop sounds like (like every other kind of floppy-haired boy-pop, turns out. Oh yeah, you suspected, but you weren’t SURE. Now you are), and also because the clown in the video is DrBob’s friend Walter.