Nicholas has been very confused this week—Sarah and I have switched the cars we usually take to work. So when I loaded him this morning into the Accord, he very carefully said, "Ommy's car." He wasn't upset, but he seemed to want to note for the record that I was driving the wrong car. And he's only going to get more confused.
We switched cars this week because last Friday, somehow without meriting mention in the blog at the time, we got into a fender-bender (or, more accurately, a "bumper-cracker") on the way to dinner. Everyone was fine, of course; the accident was at a very low speed at a light rail crossing—we had to stop quickly as the gates came down, and the guy in the monster truck (i.e., a Ford Expedition) behind us didn't stop fast enough. His car may have gotten its paint nicked, ever so slightly, if at all. Totally cracked our rear bumper. So it's going into the shop today for repairs, courtesy of his insurance. But because it was a little broken, I decided (ironically, given my comment on the previous post, without much consultation with the boss) that we shouldn't put over 250 miles on the car, and so Sarah shouldn't take it to work each day. So we switched. It's been fine, I think. Sarah misses her books-on-tape, but it's just for a few days.
The ironic part as far as Nicholas's identification of the cars is that we don't really think that way, and the car he thinks is "Daddy's car" (the Civic) is "Katia," the very first car that Sarah purchased. It's also, by the way, the car that was famously stolen and then found just two weeks before Peanut became Nicholas. But since Sarah's been doing a 110-mile round trip commute each day, she gets to drive the car with an automatic transmission and a CD player. What's been funny to me this week has been using the Civic as the "family car," because we'd been planning for so long for it to serve that very purpose, and for the purple car (now deceased) to be the peppy little commuting car. But we've gotten so used to the Accord's size, newness, comfort, that all of a sudden the Civic seems so old and cramped.
Anyway, that probably didn't deserve such a long post, but I have to kill 90 minutes before taking the Accord to the body shop, and who wants to work?
Abby has the same recognition, and got VERY confused when we kept swapping her car seat from car to car as we were just swapping the two in and out of the shop. Now she ONLY wants to ride in my car, which is the small, manual one. No, kiddo. No. :)
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