Tall Husband's current wheels. What's wrong with this car? Everything according to Tall Husband.
I thought it was another woman...but no, it's worse! Tall Husband has New-Car Fever. I should have recognized the symptoms: first there were things he detested about my old Bemer sedan. Out on the road, she's not as responsive as before; she's old; her wipers squeak. Even her driver-side door squeaks.
And things weren't right between him and his own BMW Z4. Then the man who insists we do everything together says he's going shopping for shirts-without me. He mysteriously disappears for long periods of time and returns home with no shirts and a faraway look in his eyes. He spends long hours secretly surfing the Internet and on the phone.
It all came unraveled two days ago. The telephone rings; a stranger's voice asks for him..my heart is a lump in my throat...the stranger is saying they met when Tall Husband was there at the dealership. As I hand the phone to Tall Husband, the scent of new car assails my nostrils. Oh, no!!! He got New-Car Fever again.
So, Friday, we are heading to a distant city to do a trade for a hot little foreign number in red. Oh, poor little Z.
And things weren't right between him and his own BMW Z4. Then the man who insists we do everything together says he's going shopping for shirts-without me. He mysteriously disappears for long periods of time and returns home with no shirts and a faraway look in his eyes. He spends long hours secretly surfing the Internet and on the phone.
It all came unraveled two days ago. The telephone rings; a stranger's voice asks for him..my heart is a lump in my throat...the stranger is saying they met when Tall Husband was there at the dealership. As I hand the phone to Tall Husband, the scent of new car assails my nostrils. Oh, no!!! He got New-Car Fever again.
So, Friday, we are heading to a distant city to do a trade for a hot little foreign number in red. Oh, poor little Z.
