Day 176

Molly floating in the soft wet sea of grass.

The perfect end to a nasty week - I arrived home to an empty house (Molly and Lily and Piggie would have to disagree with that statement), having dropped the boys off at various teenager groups, and Tim away on a hiking trip, to find a big pile of Molly's vomit.  At least it was on the kitchen floor.  I nearly took a photograph of it because it was such an interesting shape, all the grass had clumped together in the form of a toad!

I don't think I have ever spent a week with so much time spent driving a car or sitting in the passenger seat with someone else driving, like Tim or Nick or Matthew.  Matthew actually drove all the way home from his internship at Tufts yesterday, a distance of about 28 miles, merging on to highways and all!  I think mothers and fathers who teach their children to drive are very brave.

But unfortunately Tim and I are a bit useless with making deals.  We always seem to get hoodwinked, deceived.  They just see us coming, "Look, it's those suckers again, how can we trick them this time!"

So, after days and days of searching online for a car for the boys' 18th birthday, we finally bought one, a little old Subaru wagon from Leo in Medford, with a sun-roof that you wind up, and a roof-rack for the kayaks, and plenty of space for friends.  We spent the whole of Wednesday sorting out registration and insurance etc. and then hid the car at a friend's house.

Today the little car went in to see about the shuddering which had happened after Leo engaged the all-wheel-drive.  Tim compared it to getting Molly, who seemed like a sweet dog.  The woman who was selling her to us said goodbye and as she was leaving, put her head back around the door to say, "Oh, and by the way, she has epileptic seizures, but nothing too bad!".

So friendly Captain Stan of the neighbourhood garage showed me the underneath of the car this afternoon, and it is rather a mess, with oil leaks and various important metal frame parts of the chassis so rusted that you can put your hand through the holes in some places, making the car actually quite dangerous to drive.  It will cost about $5000 to fix, and is not worth it!  I felt rather devastated.

But he did helpfully point out to me that we are covered under the Lemon Aid Law of Massachusetts (what a wonderful name), which makes it illegal for people to sell you such cars.


In addition to the Lemon Aid Law requirements, a private party who sells a consumer a used vehicle must tell the buyer about any known use or safety defects. If the buyer discovers a defect which impairs the safety or substantially impairs the use of the vehicle, and can prove the seller knew about it, then the buyer can return the vehicle within 30 days of purchase. Private parties are bound by this law, regardless of the age or selling price of the vehicle.

I think we may have a fight on our hands though, to get that money back from Leo, who has in all likelihood, spent all the money already.  It is incomprehensible how people can be so blatantly crooked.  I know all the members of his family, how his wife might be deployed to Afghanistan, how his daughter looked at her 8th grade graduation the other day. He knows that I too have four children, that the car is for my twin sons who are turning 18.  How could he sell me a death-trap? 

So I parked the car in our driveway this afternoon, and tearfully told each boy the whole story.  They both had a sudden terrible thought that I was going to tell them we were getting divorced, but then thought, "No, never Mom and Dad".  Matthew was very sweet when I told him how stupid we felt, he said, "You guys are not stupid, it's because you are so nice."  Well, it's all very well to be nice, but to allow yourself to be taken advantage of is just dumb, isn't it?  And Nick was enraged at the audacity of said Leo, how dare this man do this to his parents!

So, off to my lonely bed tonight.  This image is of a quilt that I designed and made for Emma for her 30th birthday last year.  A 'tarental'.