Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Things about stuff

Cats do not enjoy skink tails once the tail is separated from the skink. Apparently, the whole lifelessness thing really pulls their taffy.


At which point cats will leave the skink tail on the laundry room floor while they play with the remaining part of the skink (the part that still moves!), in the bathroom, going all 'hide and seek' with it under the bath mat.


It pays to be very aware of what's under your bathmat when there's a cat staring intently at it.

Sometimes there might be a skink.


Dying modems are particularly annoying creatures. Getting a new one is a pleasure that only the supremely frustrated can appreciate. 60 whole minutes without the signal dying? PRICELESS!!


Car salesmen do NOT like to be walked out on, no matter how many times you tell them you have to leave.

Yeah buddy, I'll just BET someone else is going to want this 6 year old Grand Caravan with the ratty carpet and the slightly grotty seats. Yep - it's been sitting on the lot for 2 months, and tonight's THE NIGHT that a thundering herd of folks are going to descend on your lot looking for that particular diamond in the rough.

Cut me a chilly cold break, dude(s) and dudette.

And if it should come to pass that in the 3 hours we needed to absent ourselves from your place of business someone does come in and buy that van out from under us? Then, OK. It's not like this is our dream car or anything. Because seriously? A Grand Caravan? With over 130K miles on it? It's a PEOPLE HAULER, not a status symbol, and for the next 4 years that's my driving life.

So be it.

Plus which, that sexy cassette player can't be that big a selling point.


Yep - Tinkerbell will, as of about 8:30 tonight, be on her way to the auto auction. In the past 5+ years I've put 150K miles on her and had many adventures, including hitting a deer! She's been a good car, but is, once again, at the point that she's bound to need another major surgery soon, and if I'm going to bleed money it may well be on the devil I don't know that also has third-row seating.

Because with 2 kids who already have 34-inch inseams, it's all about the leg room, baby.


And now I need to go clean out the Tink, as she's hauling a metric crapload of junk, which I'm sure the nice people at the dealership do not want.

Pretty sure they didn't factor in my Goodwill donations, extra plastic bags, random toys, and the travel mug from our church into the trade-in value.

Though the pile of CDs might , just MIGHT, have been a selling point.


I might cry a little when we leave her at the lot tonight though. She's stuffed full of memories. Deserves a tear or two, don't you think?

Tiff out.

No comments: