A letter from my Honda to my husband

Dear Occasional Second Driver,

First of all, there is no need to act vexed when readjusting the driver's seat settings to accommodate your larger stature. Bigger people than you drive us just fine. Sorry it takes longer to adjust as there are more manual adjustments compared to your younger, sexy German sports car. She might be sexy as hell, but she's kind of a bitch. Just saying.

What is your problem with me, anyway?

Have I ever stranded my main driver anywhere? No. Okay, that one time when my battery died and you had to come jump me. I could not have picked a better place to die. The Target parking lot? It's not the worst place I can think of. I take good care of your precious cargo.

She and I are a great team. Given her birth race, she has become quite the defensive driver. I wear my corner scuffs proudly to remember how far we've come. Although highway speeding has become a problem, we are alert. I just gently remind her that we don't go that fast by making low whistling sounds when accelerating over 70 and shaky brakes at highway speeds to keep everyone 'aware'. How many speeding tickets has your German lady allowed you to receive? They should have estimated the extra cost of tickets in the sticker price!

We've managed to not have a wreck where we live and that, sir, is a Christmas miracle given the mass numbers of foreign and terrible drivers. They might drive $80k cars, but they are all stuck on level "I'm not quite sure how an intersection works".

Two words: regular gas. I don't require fancy premium and get way more miles per gallon than Fräulein schlampe. I believe I've also been paid off for quite some time. Is there a leak in the air conditioning system? Sure. But that is to be expected at my age. A little maintenance cost here and there is not a deal breaker.

I guess what I am asking for is a little peace and a little more quiet. I act like being called an "old jugglin' bitch" doesn't hurt, but it does. Asking my main driver when she's going to want to get rid of me (in front of me!) makes me sad. She is so funny...and beautiful and smart. She smells so good and I will miss her so much when our time together is over. She doesn't punch my accelerator to the floor yelling, "why is this car so slow?!!!!!" She respects the aged.
You sir, are impatient.

I just need a little more time. Please understand that no car goes off to a peaceful death. All cars' lives end tragically. If you don't crash into a million pieces, your maintenance gets neglected and you are driven until you literally cannot drive anymore or you get chop shopped for all your parts.
Just give me, like, 50000 more miles in the garage. Best case scenario, I get riced out by some 16-year-old and shortly after, my life (not his) ends instantly in a fiery crash.

Lighten up and don't be a jerk. This is all I ask.

                                                                                                                  Forever hers,

                                                                                                                   2003 Honda