Friday, November 28, 2008

In Defense of Motored Vehicles

My parents drive a brand new Prius. It's silver. I sit in the back seat, strapped snugly right in the middle. It's quite silent. It handles really well. And my parents listen to really great music while they're driving.

After my yellow pacifier and my Mylocin, it's my favorite thing in the world.

Drive me anywhere, and it'll put a smile on my face. Calms me down. Puts me asleep. Takes me on a nice trip away from whatever troubles I might have. It's not a car. It's a dream machine.

Sometimes, when we approach the house, I'll begin to cry hysterically. Not because I need anything urgently, mind you, and not because I'm in great duress, but because I'll quiet down if Mommy and Daddy just drives around some more.

Yep, I've turned Mommy and Daddy into those people.


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