Thanksgiving and Car Shopping

Hi blog friends!  Sorry I've been neglecting the blog lately....I really do have so many stories to tell.

(Uh-oh.)

I feel like I always say that "such and such month is killing me."  And December has turned out to be the worst of all.

(It has also turned out that I'm not very good at time management.)

Not only have we had something every night, I'm kind of concerned that AG may start calling her babysitter "mommy."  It's been THAT bad.  Add a new job, Christmas shopping, and getting sick in the middle of it all, and it's a wonder I've been able to keep up at all.

Okay, actually I haven't kept up. AT ALL.  I'm literally sitting here SURROUNDED by clean (yet unfolded) laundry, wads of used up tissue, and piles of unwrapped Christmas presents.

But at least it's not dirty laundry, am I right?  I can give myself props for doing the bare minimum of moving clothes from the washer to the dryer.

I'll take it.

But, Thanksgiving.  I was going to tell you about Thanksgiving.  It was awesome y'all.  We went to Nashville to see my in-laws, ran our traditional 5 mile race on Thanksgiving morning (very helpful for consumption of large amounts of pecan pie later in the day), and we even got the boys into aprons.  A good time had by all.

Oh yeah. This happened.

On Black Friday, I tried to bribe different family members into going to the mall with me.  They were all too smart too tired for that, so instead, John, his dad, and I went to test drive some cars.

(Why purchase a shirt at the mall, when you can purchase a car at the dealership?  Isn't that what Thanksgiving is all about?)

(NO.)

Really, we had already planned on looking at cars, since my precious Big Red just turned TEN YEARS OLD. My amazing parents gave her to me for graduation from college, and she has been everything a girl could want.

Until that girl added a baby and a RATHER LARGE dog to her family, and now when we go anywhere, Jackson has to ride on top of a suitcase.  And if we were to add another carseat at some point, Jackson is in danger of having to ride on the roof.   I feel not one iota of guilt, though, after having driven my car for 10 years, including many trips to the shop, breakdowns at the pediatrician's office (with a crying baby in tow), and calls to AAA.

It's time.

We arrive at the car dealership, and John kindly issues his standard reminder about NOT ruining anything by talking.  Because I may or may not be prone to statements like "oh, what's that price on the window?  Well, that seems fair to me!  We'll take it!"

Ahem.

I learned a few things that day, though.  For instance, when you've driven a car for 10 years, you may be surprised to learn that cars no longer come with tape decks.

Also, when searching for where to plug in the headphones your child will use to watch movies (yep.  Movies.  Plural.  On long trips, all tv rules go straight out the window, people.), it may surprise you to learn that "oh, those headphones are wireless, ma'am."

(And who are you calling, Ma'am, guy helping us, who cannot possibly be more than 2 years younger than me?)

(Let's stop that now, m-kay?)

You also may find yourself calling all the cars "space cars" while your husband silently laughs at you.  Which now that I think about it, probably doesn't help with the whole "ma'am" thing. 

John's favorite car of the day was the freaking huge very manly Toyota Sequoia.  I may or may not have caused all of the sales guys to go into fits of laughter as I tried to park it.  Several times.

AND NEVER SUCCEEDED.

And eventually had to let our ma'am-calling sales guy do it.

Needless to say, it's probably not making my short list.

Then we moved on to my favorite car of the day, the Buick Enclave.  Which is when this conversation happened:

John:  Babe.  A BUICK?  Did you suddenly turn 85, and I didn't notice?  You're freaking out about this guy calling you ma'am, and now you want to drive a BUICK?  Come on, now.

Me:  What?!  Maybe I can help Buick re-brand themselves to the young (ish) mom scene.  And would you please stop laughing and calling me Gladys???? Besides, it's like I'm driving on AIR.

One might even call it a space car.