In the last week, I was on the phone with my parents many times. Ever since the A/C in my car died, I've been considering chucking it out and buying a new one - repairing the A/C would have cost at least a third or fourth of what the car was still worth.

They advocated buying a new (used) car, a Toyota, and I more or less charged them with finding one for me that was still affordable, as new as possible and neither too big nor too small.

With the help of our favorite car dealer, they found one: a three-year-old, silver-colored Toyota with 87 HP and - of course - climate control.

To my eternal shock, my little brother wanted to take my old car and in turn get rid of his current one, an ancient, unreliable, lowered Ford with many gizmos that caused him to be stopped by the police on a regular basis.

My mother said that he was slowly becoming bourgeois to a scary extent. She may be right, but whatever his fiancée is doing to cause that, I heartily approve. At least he won't land in a ditch with a smashed car again - I hope.

Anyway, on Tuesday my parents were incredibly nice - they came to W. with my new car, went to the vehicle registration center with it and delivered it to me at work with brand spanking new license plates. We had lunch together, and then they drove back home in my old car to hand it over to my brother.

So now I'm the proud owner of a pretty, shiny, almost new car with enormously comfortable seats, a steering that handles like a dream, and a working A/C. Not that I need it at the moment - the weather persists on being grey and rainy.

:::pets new car lovingly:::