Remember Mommy’s new car – I first blogged about it in the November 18th post?
She did eventually get a top for it, and one weekend she announced, “We’re going to Reno!”
She wanted me to see snow – for the first time.
On our way back to the San Francisco Bay area it was cold, and slippery. We came to a stretch of road that had recently been plowed, but a sheet of ice remained. The car spun out of control. Around and around we went, down the wide desolate road.
When we came to a stop, Mom sighed in relief, realizing that we were okay.
While I giggled uncontrollably, “That was fun, do it again!”
So, she did. Again, and again, she spun donuts. Just to make me laugh.
Though it seems that my Mom was not aware of a car’s need for antifreeze, and soon learned what can happen without it: a cracked engine block.
That’s pretty bad, right? Well, remember, this is my Mom we’re talking about … it gets worse. The car caught on fire ... in the parking lot, while picking me up from daycare the next day.
Yes, that would be the same daycare I mentioned before. And once again, like she had on many other occasions, the snooty Mrs. Armstrong rolled her eyes as she watched us leave, hoping we would never come back.
You might be asking, what ever happened to the cute little convertible?
Well, Mom only had the car about six months. She had one problem after another with it, and the fire was the last straw.
She had the car towed to the dealership that night. She left the keys inside, with a note that read:
To whom it may concern;
I am sorry, but I cannot take care of this car anymore.
You can have it back.