The highs and lows of parenting and real estate.

The New Baby Needs a Name

I don’t think I’ve announced it officially on the blog yet, but The GOV (the Giant Orange Van) has been driven to the farm and allowed to run free with the dogs in the tall grasses for the rest of its existence on this planet (shh, we don’t want the kids to know it’s being broken down for parts and the shell will likely end up as a meth lab in an abandoned lot).

The plan was to drive The GOV one last time to our Tahoe trip to take advantage of the spacious interior and then trade it in for a small SUV. We’re out of the car seat/stroller/pack’n’play bullshit stage of child-rearing and I’ve officially decided my womb shall forever remain barren from here on out (announcing it publicly totally means I’ll be pregnant 8 seconds from now), so I thought the move to a car I don’t have to fill up with gas every 500 feet made some sense. It would have been nice to have a little excess room for a 13 hour drive, though.

Of course, The GOV must have overheard us discussing this plan, because he decided, as a final Eff You, to develop a mysterious, expensive transmission issue three days before we were set to leave.

It’s not the first time I’ve posted this picture here, but I can guarantee you it will be the last.

Which left us with the following options:

1. Turn off the check engine light, cross our fingers and drive it to Lake Tahoe, hoping it wouldn’t come shuddering to a stop in the middle of the godforsaken Nevada desert.

2. Pay around $1000 to get it ‘fixed’ and then drive it to Tahoe, hoping it wouldn’t come shuddering to a stop in the middle of the godforsaken Nevada desert.

3. Take it immediately to the dealership and trade it in on something new, hoping they just maybe don’t notice the transmission issue.

4. Set it on fire.

I lobbied hard for number four, but Jason and the guys at our mechanic place talked me in to option 3 and eventually, about 2 minutes before we pulled out of Phoenix, we ended up with a new Subaru Outback:

Cute, right?

I’m sad it’s not orange, but red’s a close second. It’s roomy enough and the kids like it. Jason ordered me new Ragnar and Ignite stickers to put on the back, even though he thinks stickers on cars are stupid and terrible and he installed Satellite radio so I can listen to Howard. It’s really starting to feel like my car.

The problem is, it doesn’t have a name yet. I’ve never named a car before The GOV, but now I’m kind of into it. It was fun, even if it was confusing for some people (one of Jason’s coworkers who I’m Facebook friends with saw me post something about our vacation being in jeopardy because of The GOV and told him she was so sorry the government wasn’t letting us go to Tahoe and she really hoped it gets worked out).

I haven’t come up with anything worthy yet. A friend suggested ‘Franzia’ and that’s ALMOST IT. But the thing is, anyone who knows me knows I wouldn’t drink Franzia. Well, of course unless there wasn’t anything else.

So, I’m saying I need some help. It’s a cute little red SUV. It’s sort of a hippie car. I’m a fan of irony. And references to color. What should I name her?

Leave suggestions in the comments here or on Facebook. Or email me if you’re shy. If I pick your suggestion I’ll totally send you your choice of an inappropriate coloring book or a t-shirt that says I <3 Boxed Wine.

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