I Believe In (Car) Love At First Sight

We went car shopping this weekend… And if you know us, your eyes just rolled, I saw it.

But I hated Hubs’ Jeep Wrangler. Not hated as in disliked, hated as in: I only enjoyed riding in it when I was drunk; I would NEVER have traveled long distances in it, which meant could not travel with our bikes, paddle boards, or kayaks; I sat on a towel because the seats were ALWAYS damp (it’s Florida and I have fake-OCD), and the seats were so uncomfortable, I had to ride with my feet propped up on the dash board so my butt didn’t get bone spurs.

Plus, the Jeep smelled like feet (I have hyperosmia), and I had to go all Bruce Lee, just to get in it, because I’m smurf-sized, and so is Hubs; although he is reluctant to admit it.

Sooooo, Hubs finally agreed to trade the cheese (it was school bus yellow, which I hated too), for a VW Golf TDI. Sounds like a common car, and easy-peasy to find, right? HA! Not when you piece together our car-requirements; Hubs has to have a manual transmission, and I have to have all of the bells and whistles. And that makes it NOT easy. But we found one. One loaded Golf TDI in the Southern Hemisphere. So we drove to Montgomery Alabama and bought it last weekend.

Easy peasy. Except for a slight problem. We spent four hours on the VW car lot, and I fell in love. At first sight. With a Denim Blue Beetle Convertible. Oh my gawd. I. WANT. IT.

I don’t NEED. IT. I already have a brand-new-car. My third brand-new-car in three years. But I have a hard time with wants vs. needs, so Hubs offered a helpful analogy…

“You WANT a Beetle Convertible, but you’ll NEED a coffin if you trade your Acura for a Beetle Convertible.”

Ha-ha. Silly Hubs.

But I know, I know. I really have to practice keeping a car for as long as I can keep a cell phone.

Go ahead. Roll your eyes. But this time it’s love. I swear.

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*notice it has navigation, because I’m obviously geographically challenged.

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