Cross-posted from SpaceBrew
You can usually tell by the state of my Jeep if it’s a good night to ride. But that doesn’t always speak of the month, or season. If we’re knee-deep in the middle of a string of 40° days and suddenly get a nice 7ddle of a string of 40° days and suddenly get a nice 75er? You bet, I’m taking the windows and top off Amber Waves. Because it only takes five minutes to take it off, and about fifteen to put it back on. No sweat for me, I’m gonna enjoy the weather. It’s nice to be able to leave the top off for a while, and have a place to park it.
Which sucks when you have the top down. Alley cats, rain storms and asshole thieves are always a problem.Now I park my baby inside the garage, right next to my Indian, which is right next to my wife’s SUV. Yes, my motorcycle fits nicely between them. And I have a mini garage door opener on it. Zing!
Anyway, I picked up my youngest daughter yesterday to spend an evening with her. I told her the night belonged to her. We can do whatever you want. I offered her some options. I said, “We can go to the arcade, we can go home and wash the Jeep on the driveway, we can sit by a fire tonight… Whatever!” And you know what she said? You got it. She wanted to wash the Jeep. Well, I might have talked her into going to the arcade first. So we played some Mortal Kombat II, practicing our special moves against each other and had a couple of drinks. Then we headed home to get the wash bucket out.
I probably don’t have to tell you how proud this made me. This is a girl who’s grown up around Jeeps. Big Jeeps. Off-roading trips with my cousin and the boys from 4WP. Back seats of Jeeps with no top or windows as a six-month-old in her car seat. The two Jeeps I’ve owned since she’s been alive. And when I pick her up from school and Callie is in the front seat, Laynie will climb up on the back tire, toss her backpack in the backseat and swing over into the seat Daisy Duke style. Pretty bad ass. So it follows that she loves washing it too. She will likely inherit ol’ Amber Waves when she turns 16.
Since we had soap in the bucket, we went ahead and washed Starling too. Then I took her for a quick ride around the block. We finished our night by getting some Wendy’s burgers and then listening to records. Again, this was her choice. When I asked her what she wanted to do next, she said, “Can we listen to some records?” That’s my girl. I’m telling you, friends, she’s going to be a bad-ass chick when she’s older.