Car Shopping

Our local radio station has been playing advertisements for Car Wars, a big car sale where some of the dealerships get together in the mall parking lot and compete for customers. When David heard the ad, he asked, "When is that sale?" I told him, and asked, somewhat facetiously, "Why, are you planning to go?" He said of course he was planning to go because we'll need a new car by Fall; we probably won't be able to fit three car seats in the one we have. I tried not to think too much about it, but it turns out he was serious.

Today, we moseyed on over to the mall to see what they had. Our search criteria include a third row in the back, non-minivan*, better than 18 miles to the gallon (preferably much better, though surprisingly hard to find in a modern SUV), and leather seats (not mandatory, but a plus, since we're having a devil of a time keeping the seats in our car clean with sloppy kids and a hairy dog). We found just one that we liked, and a couple more that we might settle for to save some dough.

Our hunt will continue. I've been looking online and found some lower-priced cars, but they had a lot of miles for their age, and putting the miles on a car is something I like to do myself, not have pre-done when I purchase the car. I'm hoping to get this new car before July, which is when my mom, my boys and I are heading to Colorado for a family quilting party (sounds riveting, I know).

I'm so excited; I love major purchases. But at the same time, I'm trying not to get my hopes too high, in case we decide to save our money and just squish everyone into the car we've got. I suppose it'd be possible, though tricky.

*I don't know what I have against minivans. I rode around in and sometimes even drove my friend's Astro Van (well, it was her mom's van, but it was the vehicle the kids were allowed to take to school; you know how it goes) in high school, and it was the coolest--we thought it was, anyway. But something inside of me has changed since then, and I just can't bring myself to drive a minivan anymore.