Up until this year, my husband owned a a little red, 1991 Nissan truck. This truck was older than my first born but the truck was reliable and my husband could fix what was needed. Though parts were getting hard to come by, there always was a way my husband could manage either by eBay or other older model enthusiast.

The little red truck was also practical which equals “paid for”. And as a bonus it was also standard transmission and I loved being able to show off that skill. And insurance? Dirt cheap. When we have growing boys in our home the cost of insurance is always a concern.

But in reality, the little red truck had seen better days. No air-conditioning or not enough. Have I mentioned that we live in Texas? My gift of a car stereo that had been installed for my husband one Christmas was stolen since the back window had a sliding latch…that didn’t quite catch. The interior was worn and the exterior had seen better days.

Oh, and it developed leaks…first brake fluid then oil then I’m not even sure what. But it always was another thing on the list my husband was needing to tend. Not only for the truck but now for our drive way.

Any mention from me in replacing the little red truck was quickly dismissed, though. So I realized  there was quite a bit of nostalgia built in: he got the truck when his kids were younger and I heard stories of them riding in the jump seat. So any upgrade was going to need to be his idea and when he was ready. ::sigh::

I was pretty much “over” the little red truck. I’m not going to lie.

Late in 2015, I noticed that my dear husband was spending a lot of time researching cars so I knew the process had begun. It was just a matter of me having patience for him to find what he wanted.

And then it happened. In the spring of 2016, he chose a car for himself…no taking care of kids, no insurance issues, no using the excuse of owning a car out right. He chose a car just for him. Just for fun.

hula-girl-3_webAnd so we now have a convertible Mustang. It’s bright blue and it’s fast and I’m sure we look like a Viagra commercial as we are cruising with the top down. But that’s okay. I’m good with it.

For our 10th wedding anniversary this year we rented a private cabin on a ranch in the Texas Hill Country. We love this part of Texas: At any given time and place there is live music, from the well known Gruene Hall to parks to neighborhood diners. Wineries offer tastings and the people are always so friendly.

And dance halls! Every little town has at least one dance hall that is packed on a Friday and Saturday night. It’s a laid back feel with room to roam and room to drive with the top down, while exploring back roads. The roads are so different than where we live with their are winding back and forth, up and down and the vistas are beautiful.

It’s here that I realize that I love experiencing my husband drive. Full of excitement and fun…even if there is quite a bit of me grabbing onto the “oh shit” handle and forcing a smile.

In this particular moment that was mixed with joy for my husband and some serious feelings of being thankful for seat belts, I look up and see the dashboard hula girl. With a slight seductive smiling and little wiggle as we turn the next bend, she calms me.

This kitschy hula girl that he mounted to his dash (and really when you finally get to choose a car just for yourself, a hula girl is called for), reminds me to just exhale and sway to the rhythm of the road, turn up the music, enjoy the scenery and let my husband lead us where we are going.

Just give him this moment of recaptured speed and freedom…of youth.

And I silently thank the hula girl for reminding me to just relax and enjoy the smile on my husband’s face.

The waiting for him to choose a car was worth it. Sitting back and waiting was worth it.

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