I saw two Smart Cars on Earth Day. They were zipping around like a couple of gnats, flaunting their fuel economy. In case you haven't seen one, they are about the size of a dining room table -- about five feet wide by eight feet long. They are just so darn cute! Like a Barbie car, only bigger.
A little bigger.
Since we can't have a pet, I'm thinking of petitioning His Royal Highness, the King, for a Smart Car of my very own. I have my approach all planned out:
"Look what followed me home, Honey. Isn't it cute! Can I keep it? Please, please, puhhh-leeeze?
It doesn't shed or bark, and it would be cheaper to feed than the kids. Look at those little tires, it's never going to be very big, so it won't take up as much room as the kids, either.
Remember that playhouse we never built for the Princess? We could park the Smart Car in there and she would still have room to play. Or maybe that tool shed you've always wanted. OK, that I always wanted. There'd be room for the Smart Car and the lawn mower that we don't have. And the weedwacker, and the snowblower, and the bikes....
But it might get lonely out there all by itself. We'll have to get a ticking clock or a radio to keep it company. What am I saying? It already has a radio!
Yep, it would be pretty dark and lonely out in the shed. And cold. Maybe we could fix up a place for it in the family room. I'm sure it would fit through the patio doors. We wouldn't have to worry about the carpet, either, because it's already house-trained. I mean, they do call it a Smart Car.
I promise I would take good care of it and play with it and wash it and exercise it. I'd only drive it in to town and only on paved, two-lane roads. You didn't think I was going to drive it on the interstate, did you? Pppfff. Please. Are you trying to get me killed?"
Smart Car are being marketed as super fuel-efficient. But I'm not sure how practical they are for a family. I mean, it's only a two-seater, so if I wanted to take the Little Prince and Princess with me, I'd have to make two trips. So much for saving fuel. And there's only room for about two bags of groceries in there, so I'd have to go to the store every other day.
Practical, schmactical. It's still cute.
The real reason I want a Smart Car is because last year's quest for a motor scooter was unsuccessful. I had images of me flitting around like Audrey Hepburn in "Roman Holiday," wearing a flouncy skirt, tasteful ballet flats, a jaunty scarf around my neck.
His Royal Highness had images of me with road rash covering 90 percent of my body. He said something about me not being able to walk across the street without tripping. Coordination is so overrated.
I promised him I would always wear a helmet. (Change the image to blue and white striped sailor shirt, white capris, white Keds, white helmet. I would still be stunning.) Maybe I can sell the Smart Car as a whole-body helmet! Much safer than a scooter. As long as I don't hit a car. Or a squirrel. Or a grasshopper.
The Smart Car would also be a lot more enjoyable to drive than a scooter in the rain and cold. Snow wouldn't be a problem either.
If I got stuck in a snowbank, I could just pick up the car and carry it home.