I got a new car yesterday. I'm excited but also a little horrified. Let me tell you why.
Let's put it this way - have you ever had your kids throw up on an outfit and then decided that it would be easier to just throw it away than try to clean it? Have they ever broken a toy that *could* be fixed, but you tossed it anyway?
Yep, that describes my car to a tee.
I traded it in because it was gross.
As clean as I *tried* to keep it, as often as I scrubbed it, it still looked and smelled like a preschool invited all of their friends over for a frat party.
A few yogurt stains here, chocolate milk explosion there. A missed sippy cup under the seat for weeks (I still have nightmares about that), some bubble gum on the window (I guess they're indeed not old enough to be trusted with gum), a lovely drawing of me in blue pen on my poor tan leather. A little silly putty permanently ground into the carpets. And approximately 4,978 kernels of popcorn between the seats where my fingers and vacuum cleaner can't reach.
Mix that together with the 115,000 miles and a DVD player that suddenly won't spit the DVD out (apparently my car just couldn't part with Wal-E) and you have a car that I just couldn't handle any more.
I needed out.
And so I traded my car in and got a shiny new one. And I'm in love. A little ashamed, but I'll get over that. I've got that new car smell high.
I insisted on black leather interior. I know my butt will fry all summer and freeze all winter, it's a small price to pay for clean carpets. And I've already ordered custom floor mats that will save the carpets.
And, of course, we have a new strict no eating or drinking policy. For as long as I own the car or until they turn 30r, whichever comes first.