A Small Taste of Luxury

My husband’s car has recently reached its demise, we have always driven used cars, nothing special, or fancy. The purpose of our cars is to get us to point A to point B. We have always smirked at the idea of wasting our money on something that would depreciate in value up to 20 percent a year.

The closest ever we had  to a luxury car is my little Nissan hatchback – it is fuel efficient and never steers me in the wrong direction. However, when our car is packed to the brim, every inch of space is covered with camping supplies, and that nice big SUV pulls up beside us at the lights… I do get that twinge of envy!

The oncoming death my husband’s car has forced us to upgrade and on Saturday  as we wandered about the pre-owned section of the lot I oohed and ahhed over the Xterra. My heart leapt for joy at the Highlander. But then there she sat looking at me, calling my name, I knew she had to be ours, the new introduction to our family.

Just to calm myself, I asked, “How much is she?”

The dealer quoted her price and mileage. I stroked her like the pony I had always wanted…She was a gem a 2008 Land Rover LR3 HSE.

My husband perked up, “It’s only a little more than the Xterra. How come?”

“It’s on sale this week. Do you want to take her for a test-drive?”

The kids hopped in the back seat and squealed with excitement, “There’s TV built into each of the seats! We can watch TV in this!”

My heart went pitter patter and we opened the trunk, “I could fit an army in here! “

And then the dealer showed me how two more seats popped up for extra seating.I thought I had died an gone to little piggy heaven. It seated seven people!

I hopped into the front seat, admired the beautiful leather interior, it’s navigational systems, and an array of buttons! One for climbing over Boulders! One for driving in snow! And so many more that I wouldn’t even know what to do with!

We took it for a spin and I knew Audrey was mine. We were destined to be together on winter roads, and climbing through rough terrain in the summer.

My husband and I hopped out! The kids exclaimed, “Can we get it? Can we get it?”

Mr. MBA suspicious about the price, examined the inspection sheet, and began to discuss the possibility of purchasing the Land Rover. We went over the pros and cons. The cost of gas, cost of repairs if something ever did break down, and then we talked ourselves into this beauty of a gem.

The price was negotiated, the deposit was put down, and we were going to be the new owners of the Land Rover. But…

Sadly, as we arrived home, thought about it more, and wondered did we just make an impulse purchase. Perhaps, she would break down on us, and the expense to fix. Plus, the cost of gas, and the cost of insurance. Were we really ready to invest that much money into a vehicle?

Our practicality kicked-in and my husband contacted the dealer letting them know we changed our mind on Audrey. She was wonderful, luxurious, roomy, and more than I could have ever dreamed of…It was that taste of luxury I wish I never had tasted!

The next day I walked up to my little hatchback looked at the broken bumper, sighed over the missing hub cap, opened the door, to the whiff of sour chocolate milk in the back seat. I cursed Audrey for giving me that small taste of  exquisite comfort. And with that chugged to the grocery store, giving the stink eye to anyone who passed by in a gas – guzzling Land Rover.

Jealousy can be a bitch!

Do you have an SUV or Crossover? What would you recommend?

Bubble Wrap and Freedom

As the end of the school year comes around the bend, I  have watched with pride how far my little men have  strided  and grown learning from their own failures and successes. I watch in awe how spirited they have become –  I wonder is it time to unravel some of the bubble wrap that surrounds them? It was just this weekend my nine-year old taught me an important  lesson knowing when it’s time to let go of the reins.

“Mom! Do we have any strawberries?”

“Yes! They are in the fridge. I’ll get them for you in a minute.”

“It’s okay Mom! I got it!”

I hear him open the utensil drawer, shifting through it, and peaked my head around the corner.

“What are you looking for?”

“The cutting knife.”

“I’ll cut them for you.”

“No mom! I can do it!”

Instinctively, I walked over getting the knife out of the drawer ready to begin slicing the strawberries for him. He put out his hand for the knife looking exasperated.

“Mom! I’ve done it before.”


“When you were gone one afternoon and dad was downstairs working in the basement. I just did it. And I didn’t cut my fingers. Just let me do it.”

I handed over the knife and hovered over him watching intensely as he chopped up the strawberries.

“Be careful. Watch your fingers.”

“I know Mom.”

It was with that he carefully cut each strawberry,paying attention to every detail, ensuring his little  fingers were safely away from the blade.

Once he was finished, “See I did it! You know I’m going to be in grade 4 next year. I can do this stuff.”

It was with that small moment of hovering over my son, watching him grow to become more independent and responsible. I knew it was time to loosen the reins and give him a little bit more freedom.  If I want him  grow to become the confident young man he is meant to be, I can’t always hover, and  must slowly unravel  just a little bit more of  the bubble wrap that I have constricting him.

Do you think we give children less responsibility these days? How do you know when it’s time to unravel the bubble wrap?

The C Cup Inquisition

It was one of those days were my girls and I needed a little lift. We had been feeling a bit frumpy and  I knew it was time to update my wardrobe. I headed to the mall armed with my budget and one eye out for pretty sundresses.

It was with luck I remembered to wear my favorite bra!  The girls stood at attention as I tried on a very pretty dress for a mighty fine price. I scooped it up and went on my merry way.

I was having such great  luck  and it seemed that the shopping gods were smiling down at me. I decided to treat my girls to a sexy new pick-me up for all of their hard work. I sauntered into Victoria’s Secret admiring all of the lovely things. It was there I saw sparkly pink lace push-up bra and it called out my name…

It was love at first sight! I knew Queen B and I we were destined to be together. It was just the coy look she gave me with the promise to keep my girls in place.

That was until  the assistant walked up to me and I asked,

“Excuse me do you have this in a C-36?”

She gave me a once over with her peering eyes and asked,

“Are you sure you are a c-cup?”

My face went red. My mind was racing. Wondering what other cup would I be? I mumbled, “Errr!Yes.”

Her tone changed not believing that I was a C-Cup and once again assessed my breasts then sternly looking me in the eye,

“Do you have any of our bras?”

I looked at my breasts and looked her straight in the eye,

“Yes. And it’s a C cup.”

Her tone went shrill,

“Are you sure you are not a D?”

I started to sweat, I was failing all of the answers, all I wanted to do was try on the damn bra!

“I’m very sure. I’m not a D.”

My face was getting red! My mind raced  – why was this woman questioning my breast size? I didn’t need to be reminded that I was endowed. But I have never been a D cup.

Her beady eyes peering close into my face. I was waiting for her to pull-out the strap and instigate some form of torture.

“How do you know?”

I felt the palms of my hands sweating, my ears were burning, the people around us were looking.  I was beginning to feel dizzy. I wanted to make sure I gave the right answer. It was then Queen B gave me a look, her sparkles began to twinkle, and I took a deep breath,

“I know because I’m wearing that bra right there at this current moment. And the last time I checked it was a C cup.”

She looked across the store, observed the bra I was pointing at, and let out a long sigh! A sign of relief then crossed her face, and with a smile she exclaimed,

“Oh! That explains it then it’s the miraculous push-up! It gives you the  appearance of the extra size. And pushes them up!”

It was with that she went, to search for the elusive c-cup. I always knew my bra size. I just didn’t know I would have to go to great lengths to prove it.

In the end  Queen B and I were destined to be together living happily ever after… Not even the C Cup Inquisition could stop us!

Have you ever been given the third degree? What was your worst shopping experience?