In case you were wondering – yes, I did the happy dance Friday evening.
My car is parked in its customary spot in the garage.
Knowing it’s there waiting for me to take it out for a spin completes me. I’m back to being able to go anywhere I want, when I want – a welcome change after driving a rental that made me feel as if I needed to keep it as pristine as my wife keeps the house just before her parents come over for a visit.
It’s hard to believe my car spent much of last week at the body shop. Our college son came home for the holidays, wrecked it and then fled back to school leaving me to deal with the aftermath.
But that’s in the past.
My wheels are mine again.
There’s just one catch.
My car has a new odor.
I’d like to report that the body shop guys restored that “new car” smell while they were installing a new front bumper and fixing the crinkle in the hood.
But I can’t.
It’s more like that “new paint” smell.
I doubt the fumes are strong enough to get me arrested for driving under the influence, but for the time being, I’m driving around with the windows cracked.
It may be cold outside, but I just got my car back. The last thing I need is my driver’s license taken away.