Archive for December, 2009
Yesterday, K and I went to the car dealership to pick up our new family friendly ride. While we were there signing away and taking on yet another loan, the sales rep asked me if I was expecting twins. Thanks to modern technology, I know for sure that I am NOT expecting twins. So I told him that. He just proceeded to comment “Oh…so you are just eating a lot then huh?”
I don’t know how to react to that. Period.
PS: Looks like the baby is going after K’s side of the family! All of his siblings were born…lets say….healthy!
One of the most fairytale like aspects of motherhood is storytelling. It conjures up images of you in bed next to your little one, telling them stories of lands far far away. Or telling them stories of brave and strong heroes who ate their vegetables every day when it comes time for food. When I was a little girl, I had some trouble getting food down my throat. Ofcourse, my mom told me stories – nay – a single story every day (because that was the only story I wanted) to help food ease down my screaming throat. And what was that magical story – you might ask. Well here it goes….
One day, when Amma was in the bank (thats where she still works), a really really huge cockroach came in (yeah you heard it right – cockroach). The cockroach was so big that it was bigger than everyone. And it threatened to eat everyone in the bank. All bank people were very scared and did not know what to do. Just when the cockroach was about to eat someone, Clueless came into the bank with her gun (Yes, I had an air gun when I was 5 years old. You could put stones into it and it shot them out with a *plop* sound). Then, Clueless took her gun and shot the cockroach and it died. Everyone clapped. The End.
I still can’t understand for the life of me why I was so interested in cockroaches. I guess my mom did not analyse too much either – if the story worked and I ate peacefully, she had no complaints with my cockroach obsession. Today, we have become a little too obsessed with doing the politically correct things I guess. No one will willingly tell their kid a story of how they killed a cockroach with a gun. What if they grow up to be serial killers or something?
Not so long ago, I remember how I bought my first car. I had seen the newly released model online and was really fascinated that the roof was completely transparent. And it was a sports car. And I could afford it. So the next day, I walked up to the dealer and bought my new two-door car. Just like that. I did not even have a drivers license. I don’t know how I convinced the insurance guy to even insure my car. When I sent pics of my car to my parents, my mother was worried that the car had only TWO doors. Her logic was simple – when I was paying “so much” for a car, it should come properly equipped with four doors. And what was I to do when I had a “family”? I had cooly replied to my mom that my spouse would have the “family” car and she need not worry about it.
And then, I married K. Who had a Mustang. Not only was it a two door car, but it was almost impossible for anyone to sit in the backseat without cutting their legs off. Thankfully, when we got Rummy home, he managed not to sit like a human in the backseat and the arrangement worked beautifully for us. So far. Now I have a belly that looks like it is ready to pop any minute and there is no way on earth a baby car seat AND a dog are going to fit in the back of any two door car. Not to mention that Rummy does not wear a seat beat and goes sommersaulting everytime we hit the brakes hard – which was fine too until now because he had the whole back seat to roll in. So yeah, getting to the point, we are selling of one of our first loves to buy a sensible SUV that will house an entire family without any acrobatics involved. Too bad I cannot hail autos here and keep our car a little longer.
This time the process has been so different. First we came up with a budget. Four years ago I would not even know how much money I had in my account. Second, we checked out the safety ratings on all the models we were interested in. Roll over test, crash test, air bags – the whole nine yards. And then we test drove one model after another and further narrowed our search based on things like traction control, ABS (some advanced breaking mechanism – I think ) and other such weird features that I had never considered before. Engine power was considered only in terms of cargo capacity. And yes, we had one other criteria – the back cargo space should be high enough for our dog to stand and put his head out of the window.
For the last criteria, K carried a measuring tape to measure the height of the cargo area in every model we tested. Some made the cut and some did not. And one Desi car salesman was frustrated enough to yell at us saying “Are you buying the car for the dog or for yourself?” – which pissed us off a great deal. And yes, his models did not make the cut. No wonder. All diversion tactics.
So yes, we have finally zeroed in on a model that fits our wallet, our dog and our baby. K is now in the haggle-phase with all dealers in a 50 mile radius to see who has the best deal. We will be trading off the Mustang and a part of our carefree lives along with it. Every now and then I see K hugging the steering wheel a little tighter and even planting a kiss on it when he thinks no one is looking. I know how you feel babes, and I know my car’s turn will come too. Hopefully not too soon.
A pic of the cutest looking dog because of whom we let go of a few car models, got yelled at by a salesman and who always leaves a mark on my car’s upholstery with his never ending shedding..