I saw this car on the way to drop Ban off at day care yesterday:
It was going fast and zipping in and out of lanes in an effort to get wherever as quickly as possible.
We were at a light when I first noticed the handicapped plates. But it wasn't until I passed the Mustang later on (I was turning right at a light and they were going straight), that I realized the driver and passenger of the the car (both women) were easily 80-85+ years old. They were staring straight ahead and nodding their heads slowly to a beat I couldn't hear.
Quite frankly, the only way it could have been any more fabulous is if I could have heard - no, FELT - the beat as my car as coasted past theirs. BOOM! BOOM!! BOOM!!!
When I'm in my eighties, my goal is to be exactly like them: sporting around town in a brand new Shelby Mustang with a racing stripe, zipping in and out of traffic with my handicapped plates and my BFF riding shotgun. Listening to some wicked tunes on the radio and just, well...cruising the town at 8 AM on a Thursday.
Hey, a girl can dream, right?