It is walk to school week this week. Which is fortunate as the car is currently in the garage having major surgery. Such major surgery that in fact I did wonder whether to let it just pass away quietly and send it to the great scrap heap in the sky. But we need a car for our holiday next week and the thought of buying a new car in a week just filled me with horror. So its being mended as we speak.
Whats more it does feel a bit like one of the family. Its the first car I bought all by myself for a massive £450. I like the way it has got actual bits of bare metal on the top. I like the way it brings down the tone of the road I live on. I like the way that white is my least favourite colour in a car but driving it makes me feel like a cop in a terrible '80's drama. I like the way the sunroof doesn't shut properly when opened. I like the way I forget that at the beginning of every summer and wonder to myself why I don't open the sun roof more (yep, did it again this year, had to rope in brother-in-law to help me close it). I like the way it took me and the girls all the way down to the south of France a couple of years ago. I like the way how, on the trip down, eldest could pay the tolls from the passenger seat side because, you guessed it, the drivers window doesn't work either. I particularly like the fact that the satnav will be worth more than the car. I like the fact that I have forgotten to lock it like a hundred times but it is so knackered that no-one has ever tried to nick it. I like the fact that early one morning I once found a well dressed young man asleep on the backseat who presumably was unable to make it home after a night out. I particularly like the fact that after I kicked him out and he had rather sheepishly apologised he had the gall to ask which way I was driving so I might take him home.
And in case you are wondering why I am sad enough to take a picture of my car, I'm not. Eldest daughter did. I can only assume that she feels the same way about it as I do.