What can YOU say in six sentences?
No longer would I be in a position to pity those stuck in sedate and sensible sedans and minivans.
"It's just a truck," I tell myself, running a hand along the A-pillar onto the deep blue pearl of the hood and off the rugged plastic fenders. I'm lost remembering frequent trips to nowhere only to feel the comforting night air swirl and tunnel its way through the cabin. Memories of carefree times and her chestnut brown hair swimming in the breeze as we cruised along with the doors removed and canvas top folded and nothing to do but love each other madly in the late afternoon sun.
I settle into my new-used wagon and check the mirror to see little hands and little feet and and big smiles coming from the well-strapped safety seat.
It was a good trade.