My car and I have a love-hate relationship, though my children have long since graduated to outright hate

MY

neighbor tells me I should don protective gear before entering my car, claiming it’s out to get me.

She might have a point.

My car and I have a love-hate relationship, though my children have long since graduated to outright hate. Still, I refuse to give up on my 2009, four-wheeled sociopathic baby. Most days, it tests me and demands more attention than all my children combined, but I’ve been through challenging times with my kids and haven’t given up on them (yet). I will not give up on my little automobile so quickly.

It started during the toddler years, when the handle on the driver’s door decided to detach itself entirely, leaving me awkwardly holding it in my hand. This stage was challenging, to say the least, but I’m not one to give in. I learned to leave the window open and use the inside handle instead. Sometimes I used the passenger door and slid (not) so gracefully into the driver’s side from there.

During the “elementary school years,” my car decided it didn’t want to drive in reverse. It didn’t warn us; it just refused to go backward one day and forever more. Thankfully, we live on a hill and have strong boys who can push, so we also figured out that little problem. But a mechanic had to get involved at one point because the mall parking lot isn’t on a hill, and my kids didn’t want to hang out with mamma all day waiting to be called upon for car-pushing duty.