We do some weekends better than others. But ever since we purchased the car – a used, 2014 Mazda CX-5 (in red!), our most extravagant purchase to date – the physical borders of our weekends have expanded considerably. No longer do we need to wait for buses or Ubers or borrow our friends’ small but efficient Suzuki Swift for Ikea and grocery runs. And even when we feel like staying in, it seems unfair to both the car and ourselves to do so. What’s the point of living here otherwise?
Also, how many weekends do we have left in which the family unit consists of two mature, late-rising adults? Thirteen weekends more, for those counting, and that’s if the boy arrives on time. Thirteen weekends more of this party of two, with no strollers to wrestle with, no playgrounds to scope out, no snacks and sippy cups and nappy sacks to pack, no blowouts or outbursts. Just me and Tom, Tom and I, sleeping in, going there, doing that.









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