Juxtapose

Had a lovely evening talking with Gram and Grandad over some Whoppers and Chicken Tendercrisp sandwiches in our typical high-class fashion. We have it our way. Went back to their house and cut Gram's birthdaypalooza chocolate raspberry cake from Market Basket (delicious and seemingly gourmet) and talked some more. Mark and I think we should make grandparent double dates a regular thing. It was a good night.

On my way out of their driveway, my brakes were feeling a bit squirrely, so I pumped them a few times to see if they did what the brakes on my old car did when they'd beef up after a few seconds of that, but that wasn't happening tonight I guess. I'm thinking I blew a line (how's that for a simultaneous nursing/auto-mechanic/illicit-drug triple entendre, suckas?), but seeing as it was 1130PM and my nerves were already on edge by then, I didn't even investigate, really, even after I had safely backed the little blue hellion into its spot of rest to await out the snowstorm slated to arrive in, oh, a few hours from now. Somehow I managed to initially pay more for this car than any other I've ever bought, and while all the rest were way older and much more ugly and clunky than this one, none has managed to cost me as much in repairs as this Saturn. It's the princess car. It needs my attention all the time. It needs me to spend money on it. It always breaks before a major snowstorm, or the day before I have to work for the first time in a weeks, or when I just am in need of a mental breakdown. It likes when I have to divert my regularly scheduled activities to attend to its boo-boos.

That said, I did manage to drive from their house back to our apartment, through a healthy number of stoplights, stop signs, high snowbanks, and hills by means of the Downshift and E-brake Method. Though I admittedly almost pooped my pants with fear that some New England Jerk (like I would usually be on a normal day) would mercilessly pull out in front of me or ride my tail because I was stopping yards away from the stoplights, my heart was warmed and filled when it was all over and Mark turned to me and said with love, "Vern, you're the most punk rock wife ever."