Old Blue

I first set headlights on your parents

A young couple

Two wrinkled babies and a little stick-haired girl.

That was you.

Driving and listening to those little brats cry all the time.

While you sat quiet in the backseat.

You were such a funny little girl.

I remember when your crazy grandmother borrowed me to drive you

With your no-less-crazy aunt by her side

Something wasn't right

I felt it as soon as they started me

It wasn't my engine...something wasn't fastened.

As your grandmother ground my brakes and pumped my gas

Making me worry about getting into a fight with another car if we collided

I felt your little toddler hands clutching me like a lifeline.

"Don't worry, Nana, I'm holding on," you called.

Crazy little tyke you were

But braver than a little wolf pup

I remember when the two other kids came.

Oh glory! Barf on the seats all the time.

For five years I smelled like sour milk.

I still smell like sour milk sometimes.

Your father was the worst though.

Leaving pastrami in my backseat.

So a mouse could get in and chew on my poor chairs.

Or that time he got sardine oil on my carpet

That smelled horrible for a month

But I think the gasoline was the worst.

Your cousins weren't so pleasant either

Especially the little squeaky one

Who borrowed her mother's perfume

And doused my seats with it

I really wish you people would take care of me better

After all, I take you everywhere.

But I'm happy now

For you to be driving me

Off to college

Cause you're all grown up now

And I'm grateful that you haven't replaced me

I'm your van

#poetry