That's just how we roll

The following greeted me when I opened my mail this morning:

Our love began with a glance across a parking lot.
You possessed me in just a few days.
I remember long drives through the countryside,
And long weekend getaways.

But the years passes, and like upholstery in the hot sun,
youl love began to fade.
And now in a time when I need your care the most,
You hit the blinker and turn away.

And while our gas tank of love may be running on fumes,
We need not go through this alone.
For if you still have a quart of tenderness left for me in you heart,
You'll take me back to the car care professionals at Firestone.

Love, Your 1991 Escort Lx.


Mind you, I took Louie (the vehicle credited with penning the poem) to the junkyard two months ago. I must admit, the card from my car was a bit unsettingly. There he was, crying for some (extensive) TLC, and I just turned him in for a younger model; "hit the blinker and turn away." I hope I've learned my lesson and never treat my husband in such a callous manner. Or maybe I really do only like shiny newer-ish things. Lots to ponder.