Changing Homes

I'm not a car person. In fact if I ask you what kind of car you have,
I'm probably just looking for you to tell me the colour. Cars are
just tools, they take you from A-B and hopefully are reliable.

This is what I thought I felt. But it seems I am getting a new car and
suddenly I am mourning my current car.

I didn't buy it. One day AB just came home with it as my then current
car was not able to have a baby seat in it. I thought it was a fussy
looking soccer mum car and not at all how I saw myself. But it has
been the most perfect car for our family.

It bought Jack home from the hospital, taken us on many road trips,
been vomited in, shat in, had every manner of spillage in it. It takes
me to work, takes me to friends, it gives me the freedom to do what I
want and need.

I have realized that I LOVE my car. It's perfect. I know exactly how
to drive it in the city, I know it's dimensions perfectly. It's old
and beaten up now. It's paint job is so dodgy after years of being
parked outside and being pooped on by bats that its been a long time
since I felt precious about it. It has NEVER broken down. I can drive
it lazily or fierce. It's so unpretentious and even a bit boring.
It's part of my home.

So apparently even though I don't 'do' cars. I have somehow fallen in
love with this one. This new car has big wheels to fill.