I paid off my husband’s car today.
I’ve pronounced them husband and car.
Till death to they part.
And it’ll be the car’s death because let me tell you this: My husband has a mission and his is to not let the car win. He’s going to drive that piece of crap Mazda Tribute straight into the ground. And then he’s going to stand on top of it and beat his chest with his fists while I hold a boombox over my head, blasting the theme to Rocky.
Therefore, I’d like to welcome you all to the ceremony today, where we honor my husband’s commitment to his car, named Tuesday.
It all began on May 29, 2005 when we went car shopping.
We spent a few hours yesterday car shopping. This is something we’ve put off for three weeks, and have been sharing a car (my car) since then. It’s worked out fairly well, except for the time we went to pick up the new push lawn mower from Sears, and found out that you can’t fit two adults, a 4 yr. old in a booster seat, and a huge box into a Honda Civic sedan. Hmmm, we need something that has more room, and it has to be used, reliable, and did I mention dirt cheap?
The first car we looked at was a Chevy Venture. We didn’t even leave the lot with it, it looked great, but the salesguy was, how do I put this …. slimy. Uh, yeah, we’ll be back on Monday (when you aren’t here).
Next car lot had a much nicer salesguy (SG), and he pointed us in the direction of a 2000 Saturn LW2. It met all three points that I mentioned before: used, reliable, dirt cheap. And it met the kid’s requirement that it be a boy color, blue.
We piled in, Zoe and I in the back, our chauffeur … I mean my husband in the front. Drove like a dream, and the kid should know, because she fell asleep by the time we got to the corner. Since naps are like GOLD around here, I decided to sit in the back with her, while SG and Hubby looked around the lot.
They came back with a souped up Chevy Venture, with wood grain on the dash (which I guess some people like). I took one sit inside of it, and said, â€œNope, it reminds me of the car Clark Griswald drove in Vacation.
And that’s when it happened, that’s when I opened my big blabbermouth and said: We are looking for payments around $200 a month, and we have $2500 to put down. His eyes twinkled, and said that he has the car for us. After seeing the Griswald car, I wasn’t too worried about it. I went back to sitting in the Saturn with the kid. SG and Hubby trekked back to the car lot.
I had nothing to do, so I preset the radio stations, and read the owners manual. Here they come again … no car this time. Silent yay! Uh oh, SG showed him a Lexus RX300, oh jeez, a LEXUS!! And now he desperately needs it. He swears that it within the budget, and since we were running out of time, and it actually wasn’t even on the lot yet, we’re going look at it tomorrow.
Of course, I’m pushing for the Saturn because, like I said, I’ve already preset the radio stations.
June 8, 2005, Tuesday debuted on the blog
You might remember that over Memorial Day weekend we were car shopping. The shopping is over, and we have a new edition to our little family of cars. After I pried the Lexus steering wheel from my husband’s hands, we decided on a 2003 Mazda Tribute. You are probably asking, what happened to the Saturn? Well, he didn’t like it. And every wife knows not to make their husbands buy something they don’t want to, unless they want to hear about it, oh, how about EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES!!!! It’s bad enough I have to hear about the things he doesnâ’t remember he agreed to, let alone something legitimate.
The kid has named the new car Tuesday. Don’t ask me why. In November she named my car Wednesday, and I must admit that it’s grown on me.
Apparently these names aren’t widely used for cars, because when we are in a parking lot, discussing with each other if we can see Wednesday, we get a lot of weird looks. One lady even asked, “Are you looking for your dog?” Nope, we didn’t ride our dog to Home Depot today, we are looking for our car, thanks for asking.
Doesn’t everyone name their cars? Before Tuesday (the car), Hubby drove a VW Golf that I named Elroy. The name was an obvious choice, the antenna stuck out the top of roof near the hatchback, and reminded me of Elroy Jetson’s hat.
Tell me this, how long do wait until you fill your tank up with gas? I like to calculate out how many miles I’ll get from a tank of gas, and when I come to about 25 miles of it being empty (okay, maybe 10 miles), then I fill it up. It’s been at least 6 or 7 years since I’ve run out of gas, so I figure my system is working pretty darn good. Hubby, on the other hand, freaks out the second that warning light comes on. And my brother, he never lets the tank get below a quarter. What do you do?
My husband’s car is a piece of crap.
There. I said it.
I should have let him buy the Lexus with 115,000 miles on it rather than buy the stupid Mazda Tribute with 30,000 miles on it because the stupid Mazda is nothing but a freaking headache!
I hate driving it, and I rarely do, but I had to drive it today because he took my Hybrid on a road trip up to Spring Green, Wisconsin to visit the House on the Rock. And don’t even get me started on the kitchy House on the Rock.
Apparently the driver’s side window of the stupid Mazda stopped working a few months ago. This causes a problem for him when he has to stop at any sort of drive-thru, or even leaving his parking garage at work. I can’t tell you how many times he’s told me that he forgot about the window when he and Zoe were at the drive-thru at McDonald’s and then the two of them would have to work together to pull the window back up into a closed position.
I remembered not to use the window the last time I drove his car. And when we took it last weekend to get the brakes repaired we asked if they could fix the window, but they couldn’t. However, the front desk guy forgot to tell the service guy about the broken window, and wouldn’t you know it, he rolled it down. I don’t know how they got it back up, but what it taught me was that IT COULD BE DONE.
So yes, today I drove the stupid Mazda to work. And on my way home from work I always stop at the post office to drop off the mail before the last 5:30 p.m. pick up. I pulled into the parking lot, rolled my window down, put my stack of mail into the box, and as I pulled away I pressed the window button to roll it back up.
Why isn’t the window rolling up?
Oh yes. BECAUSE IT’S BROKEN YOU IDIOT!
It was 37 degrees out and I had to drive home with the window open. The whole time I was on the phone with my husband, and I thought it was hilarious, but he was pretty mad. How could I not remember??
Oh, I don’t know. How many times have you not remembered?
So what did we do? Well I was going to leave it until the next day, but he came up with a plan to take the door apart. Do you know that the inside panel of the door on a stupid Mazda is only held together with four screws? It is.
Once he got the panel off, we could only hold it about 5″ away from the door itself or else we’d rip a wad of wires out and then we’d be screwed. I sat in the car and tried to be supportive as my husband pushed on wires and said “oh come on baby” as he pushed the window button. Yeah, it was a little weird, but he said that you have to talk to electronic stuff like this sometimes.
(I don’t even want to know what he said to all those crashed servers on Valentine’s Day.)
And then he wiggled the pink wire, sweet talked the window a bit more, and it rolled up!!
And then we had to put the door back together.
And I had to promise never ever ever to roll his window down again.
And there you have it. Husband and car. May they always love each as much tomorrow as they do today.
Feel free to send gifts. Tuesday needs new brakes. Again. And an oil change. And the window needs to be fixed. And the backseat doesn’t lock into place.