We brought our new car home. I didn't mind the six week interlude between ordering her and turning the key. It is an unusual key, more like the blade of a baby swordfish. 

There will be another six weeks of getting used to her features. So far I have managed to access the GPS, but not music. I was surprised to learn that spare tires are no longer standard issue, though to be fair I have no intention of changing one. Being a Toyota hybrid, it will be over 600 miles before I need to find the latch for opening the gas tank. The way we drive that could be late September. 

We name our cars. It is often inspired by the license plate. John and I looked at the configuration of letters and numbers, and he came up with a good one. 

Midge Soneson. That is my mother's name, and she would approve. Who knows what kind of chariot she travels in now, but on earth she muddled along with low budget automobiles. When she was a child their car was missing a door for a while. But that didn't stop her from appreciating nice things, and it would make her smile to know that her youngest daughter has finally sprung for a sweet ride. My mother had a soft spot for children who learn differently, and long before there were special needs protocols, she whisked students off to find new ways of enjoying school. 

The gentleman who helped us close the deal was friendly. His hands were perpetually moving, and he explained that he has Tourette's. I had liked him before this but now I really did. How marvelous that he has a job, and interfaces with customers. Since there are pauses in the process of purchasing a vehicle, I asked about how it has impacted his life. He admitted that things were rough when he was a kid, but he works hard on managing the anxiety and racing thoughts that drive his movements. 

I like knowing that some slender slice of our payments will go to him. Although my own son with special needs may never be fully employed, I rejoice to know that this man is. 

So would my mother.