Mustang conversations

Ali and I have had some of our best conversations in the car. She's also puked all over herself in the back while I was driving her to school, but she wasn't yet walking so I don't hold that against her.

It was super gross, though, and I sometimes wonder if the passengers of whoever bought that Honda sedan ever gets a whiff of the worst mark she put on its cloth upholstery.

Flash-forward to her current passenger status. She's not a puker, but her language can get a bit salty depending on her mood. She's also quite the backseat driver when she's not behind the wheel. I haven't taught her how to drive my Mustang, so she's a perpetual co-pilot. The other day, I was driving her to meet a friend and trying to get my FitBit off my shoe. (We'd ridden bikes to the library before our car trip downtown and she was still bitter as her ears thawed.)

I was approaching a red light and had shifted to neutral while I reached down to unlatch the FitBit closure, which was proving trickier than I'd anticipated.

"I don't think this car has ever gone this slow," she remarked as we drifted toward the light.

I snagged the FitBit and shot her a look as I strapped it to my wrist. "I don't always speed," I said.

She arched her brow and silently judged me.

"I don't!" I said, braking as we came to the light. She just kept looking at me.

As a student driver, Alison is hyper aware of speed limits no matter where we go. It's maddening.

On that same trip, we encountered a Mercedes vehicle that looked like a cross between a Land Rover and a vintage Bronco. It was hideous and I made mention of it.

"It looks like an old fashioned ambulance," I said. "But ugly."

"Or one of those cars when the ambulance doesn't work out," Ali mused, agreeing but stumbling for the appropriate word.

"Do you mean a hearse?" I asked, starting to laugh.

"Yeah," she said. "That's it."

Here's hoping your ambulance always works out...