The other day, when your transmission went gorky as I was pulling into oncoming traffic and you wouldn't go into first . . . well, you came through for me. You did your darndest, thunked into first after a harrowingly long interval and then sputtered me off the in the right direction. I'm sorry for what happened after that, and well after that and after that and even after that. Fact is, Dubby Dude, you're better off now. I appreciate the way you made me look cool, the way you perched me high above all the other cars so I could see their drivers texting and driving, the way you fit 2-surfboards, one Bassett Hound with a window phobia, and four children (two of whom are very prone to motion sickness) all in your muy fabulosa back seats.
Okay, so here it goes: I'm sorry we decided to sell you to Henry and Kate, I'm sorry we decided to replace you with a brand new 2007 fully loaded (cloth seats, no DVD) shiny Honda Odyssey, I'm sorry it didn't work out. I miss you, I care about you and I want good things for you.
Live long and prosper. May the spirit always be with you. May your new transmission, put in by your new ma and pa, be everything you've ever dreamed of.
XOXO,
K-Mama
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