Kathleen McCall:
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2001-11-03 - 9:17 a.m.

Someone Else's Shoes

I am driving a rental 2001 Chevy Cavalier today, thank you very much.

It has a cd player. I put in a cd. I never had a cd player in a car before. Hey, where's the little tray thing? Do I just push it right in there? I hope it comes back OUT.

I hate this car.

This car is SO not me. I can't begin to tell you. I am not a Cavalier woman in any sense.

The girls like it.

"Hey, it has a cd player! Cool!"

Since when am I raising little capitalists? "A car does not NEED a cd player. It is superfluous. The purpose of a car is TRANSPORTATION. The Colt is TRANSPORTATION. The COLT is OUR CAR and we are getting it BACK."

They think I'm crazy. They want a Chevy Cavalier.

Fickle little capitalists. Yesterday they were all upset over the Colt. "Mommy, they can't take our car!" Today, it's "Wow, a cd player!"

Littlest says, "What happens if THIS car gets hit by a bus?"

Ha. A few days ago I would have said, "Don't be ridiculous, that's not going to happen."

What's that number in lights on the dashboard? Is that, like, the time in military format? Oh my God, it's the MILEAGE.

"Don't you drop ONE SINGLE M&M in the back of this car, now. It is NOT OUR CAR."

I'm an impostor. On Wednesdays I wear other people's shoes, and today I am driving around in this new economy car looking so middle class and normal and all that, and you can't even see the Bozo shoes until I get out. This is ridiculous.

Younger Daughter put her finger on it. "How will I know what car to get in after school?" "Because I will be in it." "But what if you're not in it? How will we find it?" Yep. You won't. It's nondescript.

I have at times wanted to be invisible, but I have never been nondescript. I am not starting now.

I am not playing any more cd's. This car cries out for Liza Minelli. This car wants to leave work fifteen minutes early on Fridays. This car wants to go to the mall. This car wants to stop off at Applebee's afterwards.

They'll never take me alive.

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