The story of my car.

Many many years ago, I purchased a new car. Not a new to me car. An honest right off the lot new car. Shortly after we took my new car with us camping. I believe Anthony was 4 years old. 

My cute and cuddly little boy decided he would be very smart and write his name on my car. I was not there. I did not see him or stop him. Luckily for him my friend Rebecca found him with a Rock writing his name on the hood of my car. The 'A' filled most of the hood. I can't remember how upset I was at the time, but I can tell you that he is lucky Rebbeca found him and not me. That 'A' stayed in the hood of my car all these years. I grew to love that 'A'. That 'A' brings me smiles when I think of it.

A few weeks ago my cute and no longer cuddly (by his choice) young man took my black car out for the day. I was not available when he called, but I did get this voice mail. "Pick up the phone, I just spun out." A few conversations later and we decided he should be okay to drive it back home.

The next day Andrew looked at the car and told us what we already knew. The front frame was bent, the headlights where close to falling off, the driver side door didn't open. These were all things we could fix, so although it wouldn't look pretty, it still worked. Plus, it was the kids car to drive now and I didn't need to drive it. 

Then my cute and cuddly husband informed us of a few things we didn't see in the dark the evening before. The conversation started like this, "Did you know the radiator is cracked?" And it ended like this, "Did you know you can drive from Woodbury to Crystal no issues without a working radiator when it is negative 20 out."

And with that my little black car was totalled. It was only fitting that the 4 year old boy who was the first to damage my new car when it was only a few months old would turn out to be the same young man who totalled it 15 years later.

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