Picture clowns and cotton candy and calliope music. No we did not go to the fair. Or carnival, or amusement park, for that matter. I am speaking of my husband's car. Yes, my husband's, since I bought the new one.
Here is how this went down: I was on the way home from work in the piece of crappola. It started suddenly pulling to the side and bouncing and doing all sorts of weird stuff, so I pulled over, thinking I had a blow out. Nope, the tires were all fine. So I finish the drive home, and that was the day I went and looked at the Caliber. John has continued to drive the little Kia, as most of his driving is minor stuff compared to mine.
I'm not sure how it happened because we have since then been driving the Caliber for the things we do together as a family, but somehow, Evan rode in the Kia with John. I must have been at work with the new car or something, but anyhow...
Evan told me yesterday as we were getting ready to eat dinner about his ride in Daddy's car.
"Mommy, It was like being on a RIDE at the FAIR!" I choked on my Diet Mt. Dew, and fought back the laughter while he explained just how much fun it is to ride in Daddy's car.
So now I am going to have to take the Kia to be diagnosed. Once it is fixed, and it is no longer fun to ride in, Evan will be so disappointed.
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