We traded in the Tundra for something a bit more... cool, I guess. We have been the proud owners of a 1990 Toyota Camry for a few months and life has been a party since. The white beast with peeling window tint and plush blue velour interior (yes, the ENTIRE inside of the car is royal blue) has been dubbed "The Rocket" and has quickly taken the Tundra's place in our hearts but not our driveway. The Rocket leaks. It's home is the street.
Chanting and hollering: "Rocket Power! Rocket Power!" with fists clenched and raised high, pounding the air in a solid salute to one of the world's coolest creations. The Rocket trumps the Magnum. The Rocket trumps just about anything. The way the tin beast climbs hills and roars so loud that it must be the engine exploding with excess power makes us cheer. It's lighting speed gets us from A to B in seconds flat. So what if there isn't really room for your legs. So what if the 17 year old interior smells like playdough. Who cares if the plushy seats make even the coolest butts sweat within a nanosecond of contact between them. It's The Rocket. The car payment free, cheaply insured, gas money saving Rocket.
Really, the hero here isn't the Rocket. The true heroes are the two small boys with hearts big enough to forgive for selling the cool truck and for finding a way to make our financial downsizing sting a little less.
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