Saturday, November 30, 2013



Today I drove my 1999 Honda Accord for the last time. The first official Zoemobile was traded in on a brand-spankin' new Mazda CX-5. It needed $4k of work and was worth about $1k on trade in. M crunched the numbers and it cost me (sale price only, not maintenance or consumables) about $4.70 per day to drive it for nearly 15 years. A little over the cost of my Starbucks mocha. Not too shabby.

It was hard to give her up. That car has been my go-to for almost 15 years. It got me entirely through my 30s. It took me to countless infertility appointments, then to countless maternity appointments, then to the hospital. It brought my baby girl home, then faithfully shuttled that little girl to preschool, kindergarten, first and part of second grade. Birthday parties and play dates and soccer games and softball games and piano lessons. Doctor and dentist appointments. Haircuts. Field trips.

That car brought my hubby safely home in a snowstorm, doped up on pain meds while I drove white-knuckled all the way. It also brought him home after an emergency appendectomy. It carted his drunken butt (and the drunken butts of three of his friends) home after Man Night. I was sober driver, and my car was the chariot of the inebriated that night.

It took us to Chicago and Cincinnati and Queen Wilhelmina's Castle. It took me to work nearly every day and got me safely home, through six different jobs.

I have slept in that car, cried in that car, raged and laughed in that car.

I have lived a big part of my life with that car. So it was hard to turn over her keys and let someone else have her.

I felt better when I got into my new ride, though, and remembered what it's like to have a new car. It rides well. It smells good. Everything works, without having to beat on it or wait for something to warm up. I have heated seats and keyless entry and push-button start. I have remote start and adaptive headlights and dual climate control and hands-free everything.

It's the new, improved Zoemobile. And I love it.


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