Goodbye Sandy...

After ten years and nearly 200,000 miles, Trevor and I said goodbye to "Sandy" the Chevy Trailblazer.

It was a sad day for me, because I am nostalgic. Trevor and I started dating just a couple of months after he purchased Sandy, so, in a way, the car will always remind me of the early "us". We went on our first date in that car (Trevor still insists I only started dating him because I was swept off my feet by his new ride). We have been on countless road trips to the ranch and Durango in that car. We were an engaged couple in that car. Homeowners. Newlyweds. I even spent the last (nearly) eight months being pregnant in that old champagne colored SUV. Funny how an inanimate object can represent so much personal history somehow. It was hard to say goodbye, and I made Trevor promise to take a few last photographs of Sandy in the driveway before he took her for their final ride together on Saturday.

Trevor, on the other hand, was excited. Because he got a new car.

Out of respect for Sandy, I won't blog about Trevor's new car yet. He hasn't named it, and so far I've only been irritated with all the newness.

Actually, no. I've been irritated with Trevor because he is being a little anal with his new ride.

Thanks to Halley, I'm not allowed to drive the new car. Something about pregnant women and questionable driving. This may or may not also be the reason why I've only been allowed to ride in the car ONCE. And that was in the backseat.

Secondly, it took Trevor 30 minutes to park the new car in the garage because he was so worried he was going to hit something. This might be a rational new car owner thought if it weren't for the fact that my mother was helping to spot in the front and I in the back. Despite all this, however, Trevor STILL managed to not pull in the garage enough to allow the door to close, and had to back out and start over.

And, yes. Our garage is plenty big for both our vehicles and is recently cleaned out and free of any obstacles or debris.

Then it had to go and hail last night, which Trevor took personally EVEN THOUGH his new car was safely tucked away in said clutter free garage.

But the best was this morning. We took separate cars to Sunday School because I had my first baby shower at 11 and Trevor was going to the Cowboys v Rams game. Trevor left about five minutes before me with all the Sunday School materials, but I still managed to get there nearly TEN MINUTES before he did. Trevor blamed it on "traffic", but my sister later passed him on Mockingbird going 20 mph. Apparently, having a new car has turned Trevor into the driving equivalent of a ninety year old blue hair.

I keep threatening to spit in it just help muck it up a little so he can get over it already.

Which again might explain why I'm not allowed to go anywhere near his flawless new vehicle.

Miss you, Sandy! You were fantastic, loyal and surprisingly hearty regardless of your advanced mileage. Plus, the dogs and I were allowed to ride in you which is more than I can say for your replacement.

At this rate I'll have to drive myself to the hospital when I go into labor. A) Trevor would never let me near his new car if my water might break inside it, and B) At the speed he drives the new car, I would be forced to give birth by the side of the road. Trevor would never be able to drive the FIVE MILES to get to the hospital in time! That would require him to go faster than, say 3 miles an hour and he might hit a pothole or something.

If only I were kidding...