The Zen of Having Your Car Stolen

There has been some fuckery afoot.

Henry walked outside yesterday to get into our 10-year old Toyota Highlander only to wonder, “Dude, where’s my car?”

It had vanished without a trace.

Apparently it didn’t even put up a fight, there were no signs of struggle.

No shattered glass, no oil stains, no tire marks indicating resistance.

For all we know our Toyota was a trollop who went off with the first bad boy she met. She’s probably muling cocaine across the border from Guadalajara by now while two coyotes throw Molotov cocktails from the cargo hold.

Inside the Toyota was all the softball equipment for the Lightning Strikers Little League team; catcher’s mask and gear, 15 baseball bats, gloves, balls, and Clare’s lefty baseball mitt.

Henry also left his iPad and iPod inside the car.

Gone too are the memories of one libidinous rendezvous in the passenger seat circa 2002. Sigh.

Here is what I wanted to say to Henry:

1. How could you leave the doors unlocked with a valet key in the car?

2. How could you leave a bunch of bags and equipment in sight?

3. Don’t think I’m going to let you drive my minivan! Maybe if you slip Bridget a fiver she’ll let you use her razor scooter!

4. A manly man would never allow anyone to steal his stuff. You need round up a posse and track these bastards down. What do you mean your Ipad tracker app wasn’t enabled?!

5. I am better than you because my car wasn’t stolen. Oh I’m going to Lord this over you.

But I didn’t.

Because I realized that I actually love my husband. Huh. It would feel so good to be superior and bitchy.

I could let off a lot of the frustration that my AG jeans won’t button that way. Emasculation can be heady.

But maybe I want to be a better person than that … or do I? Hmmm. Crap. He’s such a good guy. He coaches my kids’ softball team, which plays, like, 6 times a week, to name just one thing.

I decided to be Zen.

The first requirement of Zen is to not speak. I said nothing. I hugged him. I kissed him. I patted him. I held him. Then, I spoke, ‘This really sucks, I’m so sorry.”

It wasn’t much fun. I didn’t get any self-righteous high. But maybe …. Henry will get a new car (and I’ll steal it from him – mwahahahahaha! Now that’s the zen of having your car stolen!)

What kind of sedan would you suggest?

Something grown-up, slightly classy, easy to maintain, that vibrates cellulite off your thighs while you drive. Or just vibrates. (Sorry, still reading Fifty Shades of Grey).

17 thoughts on “The Zen of Having Your Car Stolen”

  1. Oh boo. Stolen cars are not good. Unless, you want them stolen. I was so happy when my rust orange Buick something or other got stolen, only to have the police call me a week later because it had been found. A year later, it was stolen again for good. The police said that my car was popular with young guys who like lowriders. The Buick had perfect suspension for that.

    Bummer on the softball stuff and the electronics. Good luck with the vibrating car.

    1. I’m secretly hoping the car doesn’t come back so we can get some kind of grown-up sedan (in chartreuse) that I can make excuses to drive while Henry drives the minivan. Now we just need money. I’m hoping to jump start the neighbor’s Porsche tonight at 3 a.m. SHHH.

  2. Dude SUWEET, well not really, but with the where’s my car reference I couldn’t resist!

    I will tell you this much I don’t really blame you for wanting to be self righteous. I had a moment last night that screamed GET HIM YOUR RIGHT HE IS WRONG!!!! But I didn’t take the moment. I just loved on him.

    Men are not always so altruistic, so the next time mine tries to pull his self righteous I will just remind him that I am a better person since I didn’t take advantage of him in his time of sadness.

    Maybe that is the better plan, and the magic fingers car is a great ride!

  3. So You Think You Can Mom?

    I just frickin laughed OUT LOUD from the first sentence to the last drop of this post! I could seriously picture the crime in progress!!!! The questions for hubby were the best! They always do “DUH” crap and look at us like we’re crazy! This post is going in my KEEP file! LOVE IT!!! xoxoxoxo

    Oh…and sorry about the car 🙁

  4. This is just a set up for your husband to get that Beemer he’s had his eye on. Watch out!

    Just kidding, it sucks to have a car stolen. My old Honda Civic was stolen in 1995, and I’m still annoyed. Hope your insurance doesn’t give you any issues.

    1. Why do I suspect the minivan will be mine for several more years to come. I don’t think anyone steals minivans. Maybe I can set up a minivan hit through my Uncle Vinnie.

  5. Your Zen-ness will come back at you in karma points 😉
    (and may the m-f#@cker who stole the whole team’s equipment get hi by the karma truck too)

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