A new memory

This weekend while my mom, Tom and I were taking one of our many trips to Starbucks (*ducks sheepishly*), we were talking about the Porsches my dad used to drive as a perk for being the VP of a company, and I found out that he used to let my mom drive them as well. I have no memory of her driving those cars, but she does. All I remember is sitting in the mini back seats of his black 911 and smelling the leather and feeling so nauseous. Ugh. That, and he had a built-in car phone and used to drive really fast. (This was in the mid-80s.)

The car he had before that, a mint green 944, was the one I liked best. I don't know which one my mom drove, probably both--and I don't remember which one she was driving on this day:

Phx mom: I remember picking you up from school in the Porsche one day. You were about five years old. You walked out of the school with your little friend, with these big sunglasses on. You saw the car and said to your friend, "Oh god. Mom has the Porsche again".

Could I have been more pretentious? Yikes. Mind you, my "little friend" was one of the girls who bullied me in school. We had one of those "I"ll be your best friend if you give me your lunch" type friendships.