Drivin' Drama

Over the past 6 weeks, there have been many different vehicles parked in my driveway. In my neighborhood I've become that much hated person that parks across the sidewalk as we've played musical cars and had up to 3 vehicles parked out front. This is a major deal as we have some Olympic speed walkers and mommies with jogging strollers strolling at all hours of the day and night. My house looks like we have at least 3 families living here. This all started when my stepdad died and we started the negotiations with my mom to purchase her truck. Before that could happen, we had to get the truck in her name, sell Ray's 4Runner, and save up some cash so she'd have a nice lil' down payment on a new car for herself. We knew we'd have a delay as the title got switched to her name and all the lawyery stuff was completed. In the middle of all of this, Ray's dad became unable to drive his 5 speed, stick shift, candy apple red Ford F150. Ray offered to help sell the truck in Austin so that Roy could buy something that he could drive. In an offhand comment, Ray mentioned that he would be selling the 4Runner and Roy said he might be interested. While all this was going on, somehow we ended up with my stepdad's Dodge truck in our driveway, too. Don't even remember the reason we took it! Man, did I ever feel like a bad ass driving that loud, growly, dog hair infested rumbler. So, we now had my awesome Pilot, Ray's 4Runner, and the Dodge in the driveway. One Sunday, Ray decided to take the kids over to visit his dad in Marble Falls. When Ray pulled up, Roy was excited because he thought Ray was there to switch cars. That day. Well, that wasn't the plan, but Ray wanted his dad to be able to get around. Therefore, the 4Runner was left in Ol' Marble Falls and the Red Rocket was on its way to our driveway to sleep next to the Hair Wagon. Ray drove the Rocket for about a week, performing his duty of dropping the kids off at school in the morning. One evening, with his eyes closed and right hand across his forehead, Ray told me that he just could not do it anymore. "What, honey? What is it my sweet cheesecake, punkin' head?", I said. "Darlin', I just can't drop the kids off in the Red Rocket. They are trapped in the back since the front door must be opened for them to open their tiny little half door. Without power locks, I get a cramp in my shoulder bending across the passenger seat to open the door so our little prisoners can get out. Without power switches, I can't roll the passenger windows. That means Tanner cannot go through her goodby routine that happens once she gets out of the car. My sweet Amanda, how many more times must I hold up the drop off line as I stop to keep Tanner from chasing me down the sidewalk. The stress of it all! I can't do it anymore!!" Of course, being the caring wife that I am, I offered to give up my comfy Mom Wagon so that he could drop our children off without stress. I thought it would be no big deal. I can drive the truck for a while. Well, that all changed within a few days. First, it's hard to drink a Coke, talk on the phone, change the radio, and eat popcorn when you have to shift through 5 gears. You mean I have to pay attention while I'm driving? What? And 5 o'clock rush hour traffic on I35 on Friday, on a holiday weekend? So.....much.....concentration...... And pulling into the garage at work. The gate I go into is on a hill and you people GOTS ta STOP pulling right up behind me on a hill! I will roll into your Prius. On accident. One day a doctor friend of mine asked me if I was zooming into the garage. No, Dr. I was burning up that clutch trying to get up the hill and not ram into the mini van behind me. The reason, Doc, that it sounded like a zoom is because it's a loud truck that makes the noise of a mad bumble bee. And that sound it makes like four high pitched cowbells in a metal bucket? No idea what that is all about. The echos it produces in our garage is not the type of attention I want to attract. So, the Red Rocket is also the Cow Bell Beemobile. The next week after I acquired the Rocket Bee Cow, it rained. I was excited about it, UNTIL, I turned my first corner, going a normal speed. Red Cow began sliding sideways into the next lane. Hmm, that was scary. I became even less excited as I spun my tires at every stoplight. Somehow, I made it home from downtown where I had to pick up a kid and turn around and drive back up North to a doctor's appointment. Because I feared for my life in the Bee Rocket, I jumped into the Hair Wagon. Even though I had spent 2 hours vacuuming it weeks before, somehow, more dog hair had found it's way to the seats. I was ok with it. Yes, it flew up my nose and stuck to my eyebrows, but I knew it was safer. Yes, it was like a canine fur tornado as I drove, but I was grateful for the forceful, cold AC. I drove to the school and parked in the pick up line. Feeling awesome and bad again in the loud diesel, I almost forgot about the one and a half foot wide hole in the dash. Yea, that year model is known for that. Whatever. Tanner and I rumbled on down the road. After having Hair Rumbler for a few weeks, we finally had time to return it to my mom. Whew. Back down to two vehicles. This week, it rained again. I was that person driving 20 mph down Mopac all the way from downtown. I stayed in second gear all the way home. On the freeway. When I could have been driving 65, No way was I gonna slide into all the other cars. Sorry people. I made it home safe. I've got to keep that pickup intact until the lawyer gets all her stuff done so I can sell that Little Red Wagon and buy my mom's truck (AKA "The Limo Truck"). So, the drama will continue until all the legal battles are won. I just want my Pilot back. I miss you.