Buh bye jeep (for good, this time)

I finally got rid of the wrangler. I thought I'd be sad to see it go, was planning to shed a tear or two, but I couldn't care less, as I pressed all the cool bottoms in the panel of my new mom car. I didn't even see the guy taking off with the jeep. All I wanted was the license plate frame that says "I'd rather be scuba diving," because I often rather.

The car didn't shake, the air conditioner actually has a purpose and I could actually have a conversation. Oh, and I almost gave the trunk space a french kiss.

I held on to jeep as my last piece of me before marriage and baby. On Fridays I would pick up take out while Led Zeppelin blasted on the radio and speeding on speed bumps, but pretending I am off roading while going to get Asian food is not cutting it (plus I probably look either crazy or pathetic).

When DC was hit by the last snowstorm (also known as snomaggedon), and hundreds of cars were stuck and abandoned and the snow fell hard, I wanted to put my head out the window and yell as I drove past them, "suckeeeers!" Then I realized that because I was the only one in the road, I was the only one going to work, while everyone else chilled by their fire place with their cocoa. Who was the sucker then?

So even when jeep is practical, it's not, really. And who needs that much sun, when I am already the color of charcoal from my stroller classes?

As I enter my mom car, I am excited (and surprising myself once more) to embrace this new chapter. Bring on the soccer games!