Old

Im officially old.

Mary points out new white hairs on my head and beard every day. The highlight of my weekend was getting ten hours of sleep Saturday night. I went to bed at 9 and slept until 7.

Abby wakes up at 6 at the latest, she's our alarm clock. Last weekend I woke up before her and felt great. "Wow, Abigail slept in! I feel great!". It was 6:20 in the morning. I "slept in" until 6:20am on a Sunday. OLD.

I traded in my Honda Civic last week. It was the first new car I ever purchased. The Civic treated me well in our time together, the first car I ever owned that was good to me. I thought she was pretty. She was reliable. She was always there.

The car I was in a relationship with before the Civic was a 1993 gold Chrysler Imperial. She was unreliable, big and ugly. She was horrible to me but I couldn't get out of the relationship.

I should have seen it coming when, after having her for a month, she broke down on me right in the middle of our college campus. There is nothing the ladies love more than the sight of a guy pushing a broken down gold boat down the middle of the street.

I broke it off with the Imperial when the power brakes and transmission both went out simultaneously as I parked on the top floor of a downtown parking garage. The garbage barge would now be impossible to stop. I constructed my gameplan for getting out of the garage: 1. If the breaks don't slow me down pull the emergency break. 2. If that doesn't work throw it into park, the transmission is already screwed. 3. If all else fails consult a bible.

Basically, the parking ramp turned into my own personal terror luge. The minute I got rolling downhill I forgot the plan and just laid on the brakes and horn as much as I could until I hit the street. The security footage would show a gold blur , horn blazing with me behind the wheel screaming in terror.

That was it. I managed to get  the car back to my aunt and uncles and found a place that would tow it away AND give me forty bucks.

When I get back from work that day there was an envelope in the door containing fifteen dollars. The guy pulled up, looked my car up and down and decided no way in hell he was going to give me forty bucks for it. Nope, thats not a forty dollar car. Thats a fifteen dollar car.

Screw the Imperial. The Civic treated me right. I would driven that car until the wheels fell off if it had four doors. A fat guy, a two door civic and a baby is fine as an intro to a terrible joke but makes for an irksome reality. Getting a car seat in and out of the car was a pain. I had to tilt and twist Abbys car seat to get it in. She enjoyed the cut rate amusement park ride, my back didn't.

When we were looking for a replacement car our priorities were roominess, safety and reliability. Responsibility is sexy! We ended up getting a 2012 Ford Fusion and really like it so far. Abby misses her daily carnival ride but is enjoying the smoother ride, the quieter cabin and better sounding Yo La Tengo.

Smooth ride. Quiet cabin. Airbags. If I keep aging at this rate I'll be eating Abbys pureed chicken and peas in under five months.