Her Name is Lola...She Was a Showcar

Hugh's superior negotiating skills netted me a new car yesterday, and, despite the value of the car roughly equaling one of my kidneys and a good-sized hunk of Hugh's liver; we managed to leave the dealership with our organs intact. Oh, we offered them up, but, the dealership declined; something about standard financing through GMC being preferable to the harvesting of human organs or some such nonsense.

Anyhoodle, I am now the proud owner of a car far flashier than that which a middle-aged mother of two should be allowed to drive....and I like it.

Although I was sad to part with good old Tahoe James, the neutral-colored, dependable, mom-appropriate workhorse; I have fully embraced my new candy-apple red ride. I've named her Lola, in recognition of her showcar appearance, and I am slowly learning how to operate all of her ridiculously advanced features. Keyless entry has proven to be a bit of a learning experience, I will admit, and, I live in near-constant fear of misplacing my key fob.

First World problems, I know.

I also live in fear of getting her dirty, which, is ridiculous, I know. Here is a picture of her currently spotless interior; soak it in, because she will never be this clean again (damn you, dirt roads!).

She will probably be the last Tahoe I ever purchase, which means that she better plan on lasting for as long as James did. For the record, that would be approximately twelve years. Which, coincidentally, should be about the time she's paid off.

Huh. I wonder if we should have looked deeper into that black market for human organs...