Counting Cars.


Always on the look-out for ways to keep the kids occupied, I institute new programs on the fly.  Some of you may remember last month’s installment, How To Control Kids: Question Quotas, a fine breach of free speech.  A far older institution, yet to be revealed until now (I’m such a tool), is Counting Cars, a fairly irresponsible practice if I’m driving.  When Mommy drives I’m like a seat-belted wolf, scanning the road for prey, quantifying victory, because in the end whomever collects the most sightings wins.  Game over.

Seems ridiculous not to identify the make and model, so here’s our list, in particular order:

The Ford Taurus

To judge by its style and frequency some might say the Taurus is plebeian, but they’d be wrong.  First introduced in 1985, the Taurus is now manufactured in its 6th generation, haughty territory for any vehicle.  If you really look you’ll see some of the old-schoolers out there, always on the road.

It's on.

It’s on.

The Ford Mustang

An audible riot, a Mustang is literally the wild west American horse, a freaking asphalt wolf! A common occurrence, each sighting is cause for unbridled celebration in my family.  This brutal equestrian rules the road.

BULLITT.

BULLITT.

The Corvette

Clearly the most exotic four wheels listed here, Chevrolet’s 2015 ZO6 makes a black hole shudder at 650 horsepower.  And the Corvette in general is a seasonal sighting–warm weather only.  It’s extremely rare to see a Corvette in winter, like a god-damned snow leopard!  Call me if you witness such an event as I’m committed to a longitudinal study.

yikes.

yikes.

I realize this is a decidedly American-made affair.  I plan to introduce the European sedan come Summer.

Again, my preoccupation with keeping the kids occupied leads to a new game.  Gradually all come aboard. Mommy mistakes a retro Camaro for a Mustang, and that’s ok (sorry purists).  They’re both American muscle cars.  To Reese everything is a Mustang, and she’s so sweet I could drive off the road.  My true competition is Jack.  Heading south, returning north on the GSP is like an Olympic event.  Shouting, grotesque posturing, unlike sportsmanship rule the day.

Closing Remarks–just learned that 10 and 2 on the wheel is considered highly unsafe–deployed airbags can send hands into the face, breaking thumbs, among other maladies. 9 and 3 is the new rule. This is my PSA.  Call me civic.

Happy motoring!

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