Did you know that if the Sheriff hits your car they don’t have to pay for it?
This blog post is about Kait’s car.
That’s right, I said Kait’s car. My baby girl is rapidly growing up and now has her own 1995 Nissan Altima. And it’s the same Nissan Altima she rode in when her Nana drove her around as a baby, that her Nana promised she would gift to her as soon as she had a driver’s license. And then last week, even though Kait is still a few months from getting her license, my mom decided it was high time her oldest grandchild take possession of the car, and yesterday Kait put her John Hancock on the title and now has her very own set of wheels.
This is an unbelievably generous gift, people.
The car, which my mother named Baby possibly after the baby brontosaurus in that one movie but probably not, is in very good condition. It has aged so gracefully and has very few cosmetic or mechanical defects except for dent on the driver side rear panel because apparently a law officer can hit any old car they want and not be at fault or even have to apologize or anything.
But the dent is being taken care of because my mom fought and it’s a long story but everything is turning out sunshiny. But I’d like to note that it wasn’t the officer at fault who ended up dishing out the money.
And now the baby girl who screamed in terror whenever the windshield wipers came on has her very own car.
I’m getting all farklempt.
In a good way.
Thanks, Mom! Kait is on cloud nine.
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