car talk

We have three vehicles at our house.  It sounds excessive I suppose, and I have to take all the blame for it.  West has his truck that he uses to haul lumber and tow the fifth wheel.  I have my Camry, the car I adore.  I bought it right after my divorce after a freak car accident totaled the clunker I'd been driving (at least the clunker had been paid off...).  When I found myself facing the fact that I had to buy a new car I started thinking, what would my dream car be?  I came up with a gray Corolla.  Guess what a found?  A gray Camry, which is one step better.
When I married West we had to face the fact that we needed a car that could handle our family of eight.  I started looking and really didn't know what I wanted.  I took the first deal that I found.  A white Yukon Denali. 
You know when something seems too good to be true then it probably is?

We learned that the hard way with that stupid Yukon.  Neither of us likes driving it and it's constantly having major break down issues.  A month after we bought it we had to have the transfer case redone.  No wonder it was sold so cheaply.  The previous owner must have known it was going down the tubes and wanted to get away from it before all hell broke loose. 

They did.

Because of my great love for the Yukon (did you catch the sarcasm there?) I haven't been willing to part with my Camry.

So I didn't.

Wouldn't it make more sense to have only one car to my name and not two though?  I'm biting the bullet.  I got preapproved for a car loan yesterday.  I'm going to sell off both the Yukon (which is in working order as of right now) and my beloved Camry and buy a family car that I actually want to drive. 

The only problem is that I don't know what I want.

So far my only stipulation is that it needs to be gray.  Every car looks better in gray.  And it needs tinted back windows, but I can add that afterwards if I need to.

I hate car shopping.  I'm not going to buy it unless I feel I love it, like I did when I met the Camry.  That was love at first test drive.  I feel guilty for moving on from her, but what do you do?  I've outgrown her.

Unless... we just get rid of the Yukon and keep the Camry for a good driving-to-work-mileage car...

This morning The Man drove the giant truck (and I mean giant, I'm 5'8" and I have to hop to get a leg up into that thing) to our favorite Burt Brothers store for inspection.  I picked him up before I went to work and he starts talking about new tires on the truck.  And then he asks,

"remember the tires on the old Ford I had?"

"Uh... yeah..."

It's like me asking him, "remember the shirt I wore two days ago?"