When I was 19 and home from college for the weekend (yes, I am aware of how absurd you think this sounds, but you can just mind your own, thankyouverymuch), the Easter Bunny rang the doorbell and left a present for me (that’s just how the Easter Bunny operated at my house growing up) on the front porch. I remember it vividly.
I’m waffling between the practical, high-MPG small sedan (or compact SUV) and a full-on mid-life crisis car. The other day, I suggested the latter idea to my teenager, saying, “You know, growing up, I always said that when I could drive, I would get myself a Jeep or a Volkswagen Beetle. Maybe it’s time.”
“You should definitely do that,” she responded.