While I might not have admitted it, I was kind of dreading it. Surely the other three drivers under our roof were looking forward to using the new car. We still have two older ones that are fine for short distances, but one leaks in the rain and the other has no air conditioning. In these sweltering days of heat taking turns with storms, they can be challenging. 

Our daughters asked if they could take the new car to a babysitting job. They would be gone into the evening. I smiled and wished them well. I did not add the trite, yet obvious, reminder to drive carefully. 

As the evening wore on, I realized that they would not be home before I went to sleep. I itched to text something vague, like "Are you dead?" or "Is the car okay?"

I wrote something non-committal about whether to wait up for them. They said they might be headed home soon. That was the reassurance I needed, and climbed into bed. 

In the morning, I looked out the window to see a car safely parked. Midge was there, right where she belonged. Then I opened up my laptop to answer questions about spiritual things. One writer described the thirst for learning new ideas, but he has a harder time doing them. Forgiveness is easier on paper. Looking for the good in others takes energy, especially when they are ornery. 

My response was about how the real joy comes from bringing these ideas to life. Then I remembered the car. 

Midge does not belong in the driveway. She is perched and ready to take our daughters where they need to go. I think I will be calmer the next time they ask for the key.