You see, we've lived the past 9 months without a car. Ours broke last summer and we (Jonathan) decided that we didn't really need a car and that we would save a bucket-load of money if we just lived without one for a while. It's true. We live in a city with really reliable public transportation, and if I were a tougher person, I would really have no problem living here without a car. But, I'm not such a tough person, especially since Sawyer has joined our family. How do I get a stroller on a bus? How do I walk to the grocery store in the frigid winter through a foot of snow? Without a car, getting out of the house consists of bundling up to the max and walking to the same places that we walk to every day. Suddenly, my world felt very small. Not only is having a little baby a restricting experience, but making the adjustment without a car?! Well, let's just say, that having a car became my magic unicorn. If I could just get my hands on one, the world would change from winter to summer in a second! (I know, I know. I'm telling the sob story of a comfortably middle-class white woman. There are people starving, people sick, people suffering abuse, and people who are truly oppressed. I'm pathetic. I understand it. I'm already judging myself, so you don't have to.)
So, I started nudging. Then, I starting poking. Prodding. Pushing. Banging. And then finally, I played my trump card. I think every person in a relationship eventually discovers their trump card. Of course, you can't play the trump card too often or it will become meaningless, but in special cases, like this one, the trump card can help you and your significant other come to an...understanding...which will make you both, but especially you, happy. What's my trump card? Well, first of all, I never fake the trump card. When I use it, it's absolutely true...but I still feel a bit manipulative when I play it, because it takes advantage of one of Jonathan's most adorable weaknesses: his deep desire to make me happy. So, when the time was right, I sat Jonathan down and gently told him that I was struggling. That I felt trapped. Impotent. That I deeply needed the freedom that a car could provide. But most importantly, I was unhappy.
Jonathan sprung to action. He took a week off of school so we could go car shopping. But Jonathan doesn't lose a fight lying down. He has his own trump card that he keeps safely tucked away in his back pocket. He said, "Baby, fine. I want you to be happy. So, we'll get a car. But if we're going to get a car, we're going to get a car that I feel good about. Something safe and reliable. Ok?" What does this mean in Jonathan speak? Translation: "Ok. We'll get a car. But I'm going to pick it out. And it's going to be new, brand new. I don't really care how much it costs. Ok, Sweety?" Thwarted! Yes, I want a car, but I was thinking of a used clunker that we would get off craigslist for cheap. I wasn't sure I was ready to commit to a car payment, but my cards had been played. I couldn't take them back.
And so, after a week of shopping around, which included me crashing a never before driven VW on a test drive, we bought "Black Magic II," a Volkswagen Golf TDI, complete with sunroof, built in navigation system, and rubber mats (Jonathan negotiated for those especially). We also took on a hefty car payment...sigh. But we have a car! A really zippy one. It's not the one I would have chosen, but Jonathan loves it, so he's happy! And I have a car, so I'm happy. We brought her home on February 13.
For Valentine's Day Jonathan drove her around all day to do some "Valentine's Day shopping" (joy riding). I knew he would enjoy having a car even more than I would. We celebrated Valentine's Day with a delicious Fondue dinner, our hearts full of love for each other and pockets fat with a new set of laser cut keys. Happiness.
