Ghetto Fabulous

Thank goodness Alan and I invested in our new-to-us Honda Accord earlier this year. We knew we'd need a reliable vehicle, especially with a baby on the way, and we knew that the Saturn wasn't the young pup she once was. But the Saturn has been great for running errands and getting groceries during the day. Until the day Alan broke down.

He was basically shifting gears when the gear stick shifted no more. Went limp as a noodle. He was lucky to be in second gear when it happened because he managed to get it home, and we managed to get it to the shop. Where we were told it would be about $500 to fix.

Now $500 here and there to keep a car running is no biggie. Except when you're doing it so frequently that you might as well be making car payments for a car that's not all limpy-gimpy. And except when Alan's done a little online research and is convinced that it's much simpler than the mechanic has made it to be, meaning the mechanic wants to give us a gold tooth when we just need a cavity filled. So we told the mechanic to forget about it, and he told us that he could rig it to where we'd be able to get it home.

Using plastic cable ties, he was able to rig it so that we could get home. Which we did, with no problems. I could even go to the grocery store!

So I did.

And the plastic tie came loose. Leaving me at a stoplight in the middle lane of the busiest three-lane highway on crack by our house with a non-shifting gear stick.

Do you know how quickly your body reacts to stress? It's immediate. Because my hands were immediately shaking, and I was immediately wondering what the %@&#!@ I was going to do. And, by the way, how many New Jersey jerks would honk at a pregnant lady with a trunk full of groceries?

Luckily I didn't have to find out because as I sat at the stoplight, I slooowly tried to inch forward. It appeared that even though I couldn't shift, I, by a miracle of all miracles, was also in second gear. After waiting what seemed like an eternity for the light to change, the car slowly groaned forward, and I quickly booked it to the next available exit and took the remaining 3-minute drive home on side streets.

Remember how I called having a second car a luxury? Luxury this:


Will I still drive it once Alan gets the necessary part and replaces the console? You betcha. Will we get a second car seat base and take our first-born child for rides in the Saturn? I think it's safe to say our baby will be a Honda-only baby.