This post was originally published on May 8, 2007.
We bought a new mini-van last week.
And I should qualify that by telling you that we never buy new cars. At the mere mention of a new car, my adorably frugal Hubs starts twitching and mumbling something about "depreciates the moment you drive off the lot…" etc.
But, we had done our research and had our sights set on a Honda. Since Hondas evidently (according to all the Honda groupies in my life) drive for a gazillion miles and could survive a nuclear holocaust and drive on the ocean floor, we figured it was an investment to buy new this time around.
Y'all, it's gorgeous. It really is. And it scares me.
See, we went ahead and got the version with the navigational system on board. Partly because my frugal Hubs is also generous, and partly because he's tired of sheepish phone calls at his office that begin, "Babe, I'm a little lost…"
We first tried out the nav system on the test drive, on which we had taken our four kids (before which we had threatened them within inches of their sticky little lives not to touch A THING.) Our salesman was very young, hip and single.
When he first loaded up the nav system (I was driving), he wanted to show me the voice recognition system. He shot a dubious glance at the restless natives in the back seat. "Uh, it has to be quiet in the car for it to work."
We quieted them down, and our salesman said, "find the nearest Mexican restaurant." Suddenly little flags popped up all over the screen, marking the spots. The peanut gallery in the back erupted.
"THAT IS SO WICKED!"
And the boys, thinking that we were about to purchase a car with a magical genie living in the dashboard, began shouting requests:
"GIVE US A VIDEO GAME!"
"WE WANT A PIZZA!"
Really, it was such a proud parenting moment.
The salesman went on to explain that we can follow the directions given, or go our own route. The nav system will realize what we're doing and re-configure directions.
Did you see that last sentence?
MY CAR WILL REALIZE WHAT WE'RE DOING. No car should be realizing anything. Now do you see why I'm nervous? It's like having Big Brother (or Big Sister, since our voice chick is female) sitting in my car with me. What will she "realize" next?
"Mrs. Dryer, I think you were a little hard on Joseph just now."
"Mrs. Dryer, I think Taco Bueno is a poor choice for someone on a low-carb diet."
That nosy little hussy.