The boy is an adorable little six year old, and he was invited over to play by none other than my daughter Patience---of her very own independent voluntary volition.
He was excited because he got to bike over to our house.
He's a native Texan, too.
That's relevant because of the priority system of most native Texans:
1. Church and God and Jesus
2. Motorized vehicles (bigger really is considered better, and newer is the cherry)
3. the GOP and maintaining the status quo, even if it does destroy the planet
4. Football, especially their college team
5. Everything else
(Note: I struggled mightily with numbers 3 and 4. Oh which is more important, which which which? I chose as I did because I have lately decided Texans would rather asphyxiate than change one iota of their lifestyle. Football is king, but I've never seen people as passionate about even the UT v. A&M game as I saw people fight to not recycle or xeriscape.)
Now, because this boy is under 28 (6, as I said), I think number two slides up to first place. In fact, I'm not sure, but it might do that for boys over 28 now and again, too.
So as we rode our bikes to the house, he kept up a decent running commentary of the motorized vehicles we passed. It shouldn't have surprised me, then, that he had a comment about my car, too. I suppose the fact that he commented didn't surprise me, although what he said did.
After we parked our bikes in my driveway, he pointed to my car and asked, "Is that your car?"
"Why, yes it is," I said.
"Wow!" he said.
"You like it?" I asked, "I do, it's a good car."
"Is it...is it real?"
"Real! A real car! Can you really drive it?"
"Yes, it's real, really real, a real car that I drive, on the real roads and everything," I said.
"Wow!" he said, "It's just so small! Like a mouse car, yeah, like a car small enough for a mouse! I didn't know people could ride in cars so small!"
"Well, it's not big, per se, but it's not small, either," I said.
"Oh yes it is," he said, "It's small, a mouse car! You have a mouse car."
"All righty then," I said.
Small car. Mouse car. I drive a Subaru Forester.
I am pretty sure it doesn't meet Texas criteria for "good car." Although we call it the new car (it's nearly 8) and the big car (our other car is an Integra), I suppose it is neither new nor big. But it's not mouse car small, LOL.
Oh but he was thrilled. Such a tiny car! A mouse car! He could not let it go.
Thus, I now think of my car as Stuart Little.
Stuart Little is going to take me and the fab Kyla on a roadtrip.
So adios muchachos.
Copyright 2008 Julie Pippert
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