Sometimes I wonder why I lover her so much. She’s no beauty. She’s boxy and blue and often covered in dirt. She’s not very reliable, she’s been through a couple of hearts and more tows than I can count on both feet, and she’s a little quirky. There’s that special jiggle that opens her back hatch, the occasional blinking lights and the very rare and random honking.

But old “Blue Bomber” has been part of the family since I was pregnant with my, now teenage, son, making each casual road-trip into an unforgettable adventure. Each trip she departs from Seattle, packed with humans, dogs, and anticipation, and each trip (somewhat surprisingly) she returns. Tahoe, Oregon & California Coast, Chelan, Palm Springs, Flathead Lake, Venice Beach. She moseys down the highways & byways. We sing songs. Read books aloud to one another (or should I say yell them to one another since it can be a bit loud with her “roll-the-windows-down” AC.) Stop at parks, pull up the built-in-table to eat snacks and let the dogs out. And more often than not, we wonder what new town we might visit next, while we wait on her repair.

Most recently, she took me to Montana, to see my grandma “Honey”, and back, in 48 hours. Just in time to watch my daughter’s softball game. But she must have been tired from the trip, because after the game…she decided to take a nap at the field and then wouldn’t start.

The next morning when I went to check on her and turned the key, she yawned and headed home. Boy, she likes to keep me on my toes.

I sure do love her.

Tell me about your “fatal attraction”.