These days, we’re riding old school, tooling around town in a powder blue Beetle.
It’s a car so iconic we’ve step up our road etiquette and actually researched the proper Beetle-to-Beetle greeting.
Last week, we celebrated an unseasonably sunny day by taking the top down. Giddy with forced air oxygen we tossed back our wind tousled matted hair, high-fived each other at a stoplight and, horror of horrors, missed.
Mortified, Molly ducked low, looked around and said, “Let’s never do that again.”
People slug each other when you pass them in a Beetle and that means they’re looking at you. Clearly, we’ll have to step up our game.
For such a happy little car, with its dashboard daisy, we’ll sacrifice a little privacy to enjoy the privilege of ownership.
As a tall girl raising tall children, I’ve spent most of my life driving oversized vehicles; I’ve plowed through hood high snow drifts in an aptly named Explorer and triumphantly parallel parked a conversion van on a crowded Chicago city street.
In our spunky little Bug, though, Molly and I feel practically petite, an accomplishment to which not everyone in our household aspires.
In fact, the third resident of our household said he felt like he was driving around in his brother’s high school tuxedo when he took our little bug for a spin. No matter, I have fond memories of a certain 1982 powder blue tuxedo that will be helpful as we assimilate into the Beetle society.
Because I’ve learned the proper Beetle-to-Beetle greeting is a big ole smile.
6 thoughts on “Lovin’ the bug”