Hubby, my very own Captain Cavedweller, had the day off today and instead of sleeping away half the day as he has been known to do on rare occasion, he was up early and rarin’ to go. Where I don’t know, but rarin’ I tell you.
So with nothing better to do than twiddle his thumbs, he went out to start my car for me, shovel the sidewalk and scrape the windshield. When he came back in, he reminded me to keep an eye on the odometer as I drove into work because my car, my wonderful little car that has traveled to hither and yon and back again, was just about to hit 100,000 miles.
Huh? How could that be?
Who’s been taking my car for long joy rides and not telling me? Where did all those miles come from?
It is possible a lot of them came from running around the countryside the last four years doing home parties. The car and I have been to parties covering a four-state region. We’ve driven through rain, snow, sleet, hail and even thunderstorms that caused me to toss Goldfish crackers all over the inside. I’ve run through potholes made by T-Rex’s (long story for another day), had the back window blown out on the freeway by what should have been labeled a fallen meteor and slid unscathed through icy intersections (no, it wasn’t this morning, although with the state of the roads it could have been a possibility).
So I spent my white-knuckled drive slipping and sliding into work, glancing repeatedly to watch the car go from 99,990 plus miles to hit the big 100,000.
Although there wasn’t any fanfare or confetti as the 99,999 rolled into 100,000, it is an occasion I will remember. My sweet little car and I have been a lot of places. I’m hoping we have many more miles of adventures to travel together.