After spending a few days in Lawrence with the new baby, and surviving a tornado, I made my way home on Sunday.
Just past Topeka, I saw an old car on the side of the road. "That's going to be me someday," I decided.
I continued heading southwest on Turnpike and had just stopped to see Knute Rockne at Matfield Green. My drive was quite pleasant.
I started smelling a peculiar scent. "I hope that's somebody else," I thought.
But then I noticed my temperature guage going crazy. "Crap."
So I pulled off onto the shoulder and slowed down. My face started feeling really hot and I freaked out, thinking maybe the car was on fire. I think it was more embarrassment that flushed my face.
I opened the hood to see fluid all over and steam shooting out of a hose.
A very kind Highway Patrolman used his car to push me a mile to the nearest exit. I paid my fee and had The Croc towed away.
A few days later, my dad called me with the news. "Well, your car is toast."
I know it's silly to get so upset over a car. I have been known to get attached to machines and inanimate objects.
But The Croc isn't just any car! It's been in the family since it was new! There is history in that car!
When I told Raw, she understood. "It's like the end of an era!"
Unfortunately, it also marks the beginning of another era. The era in which Aunt Bee has a car payment.
I've never had a car payment before. So I thought maybe you might want to help out:
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