I went to a lot of concerts as a teen/young adult in the various beat up old cars I borrowed or owned. One of my favorites was a 1989 Ford Escort wagon. It was automatic, light blue and loud as all get out. I loved that crappy little car. The thing only lasted me two years but for $300 I can’t complain.
Abigail and I were reminiscing about those days. At some point in the conversation I mentioned how I always wanted to have a car that was covered in bumper stickers like some of the cool punk rock kids used to do. I never did that because I didn’t have a car long enough to cover it in the bumper stickers I’d purchased at shows.
I was then given the following restriction that stays in effect as long as my marriage lasts:
“I have a strict no bumper sticker policy. Unless it’s a station wagon from the 1980s. And it’s our third car.”
Here’s to me making enough money to own a third car! *cheers*
