It's not easy being green. Here in Connecticut, we have to have our cars pass the state emissions test before we can get them registered and plated up. My van passed. Was I relieved. The whole time I sat at at Firestone trying hard to concentrate on the juicy murder Virgil Flowers was working in my latest paperback when all I could really think about was "what if I fail????" Like it would be a personal reflection on ME. (As opposed to a generic reflection of me, which would have been easier to stomach, I'm sure.)
So, the big blue van passed, but the little blue truck, which had been Dad's before he passed and Uncle Mitchell's before he passed, failed. I wasn't nearly as nervous over this because, well, my wheels scored the A. But when I heard that Dad's wheels got a big red F, well, I was a tiny sad. Ah. Poor truck.
So now the little blue truck sits at Firestone awaiting diagnostics and screenings and stress tests and that sort of thing. Hopefully it'll pass muster by Friday because that's when Eaglescout and I plan to hit the DMV, or whatever they call it up here. Gonna get new licenses with our pretty faces on them and license plates, and I'm hoping they have nifty driving gloves because I hear that's all the rage. Special gloves for gripping the steering wheel. We didn't have those in Pittsburgh. We just knuckle-gripped that wheel and prayed hard. People just knuckle grip in driving gloves up here.
It's been a Jib Jab day up here. Check out my salute to Eaglescout and his favorite movie:
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