After going several years without an accident, my husband started drooling over the Toyota Rav4′s. Nearly every spare moment he was online looking them over, and he even stopped at dealerships looking at the options and test drove a couple. I was hoping that he’d get over his infatuation and move on because they were definitely overpriced.
The hubby decided that he was ready for a new car. I wanted to get a couple more bills paid off, but he’d decided that he’d waited long enough. On his next day off he went to several dealerships and talked to sales people about various different models. I came home to a table covered in new car pamphlets. He was comparing all sorts of things including mileage, options, costs, load capability, and insurance rates. I admit, he was really doing his homework.
He decided that it was definitely the Rav4, but he wanted a blue one and the only ones in our area were white or black. There were enough of those boring colors in our area, and he wasn’t settling for a dull color for his first new vehicle. The dealers were trying to convince him to special order one, but he wasn’t biting. A little time passed and he seemed to ease off a little, but it was only temporary.
I was at work one day when our receptionists called me to the front lobby. There was my daughter, who dragged me out to the parking lot where my husband was sitting in a shiny red Rav4. His grin was so big, he was looking like a Cheshire cat. I knew he’d made up his mind, “What do you think?”
“Well, it’s certainly prettier than that ugly gray-blue you were looking at.” I was partial to red vehicles, and this was certainly pretty. I had to admit it was a nice vehicle, but so was the price tag. I walked around to the back, “there isn’t a hitch.” We didn’t use the trailer a lot, but when we had a home project going a hitch was a necessity. My van had been amazing for this, but we both knew that we weren’t going to have the van forever.
“I’ll get them to add it.” Man, he was desperate. My hubby usually didn’t like negotiating sales.
I sat in the seat, the headrest was awful, it leaned forward in order to fit at the nape of the head. I was short so it hit to high, forcing my head forward at an awkward angle. I looked over at my husband and noted that he was tall enough that it curved perfectly at his nape so he didn’t find issue with it. Based on the headrest issue alone, I would not have even considered the vehicle, but it wasn’t for me.
Finally, I shrugged and gave in, “If you can get the dealer to install a good hitch and you can get the loan through the credit union, you can have. You know it’s going to make things really tight for us for a while?”
“I know, but the Taurus isn’t going to last much longer, and I have to get to work.” I sighed. Well, I knew the truth in this. His job was very unforgiving about being late or calling off. He’d known this going in and absolutely loved his job. We had known that he’d need a better vehicle soon, but I’d been hoping for a couple more months.
I still figured our bills were too tight to get the loan, so the credit union was my hope that they would force us to wait a little longer or chose a less expensive vehicle. In a couple hours my hopes were dashed. The loan had been approved, and the hitch was scheduled to be installed.
The husband was beaming. He always had a huge smile, but it was extra big now. Despite my worries, I couldn’t help but be happy for him. Every few minutes he’d run to the door and look out at his new Rav. The girls and I nicknamed the vehicle, “My Precious.” After the Golem’s ring in “Lord of the Rings”.
Then the fun began… “Is that a dirt spot?”
He would react as though someone had smacked him, “Where!?” He’d run over to the indicated spot and wipe the non-existent dirt away. The girls and I would laugh and he’d glare at us.
This continued for days, “I think someone scratched ‘My Precious’.”
“No one better have!” he would roar and dash out to look while we were belly rolling in the house.
After about a week, we would still try to get a rise out of him, but he resisted the urge to run over and look, and would just glare at us instead. We still got chuckles out of this and one time I said, “You know it’s not true, but you want to go look, don’t you?”
He glared at me and turned around in defeat to leave the room, “Yeah… I hate you sometimes!” The girls and I got an extra good laugh out of this.
Well, he’s had the Rav for a while now, I have to admit he’s still enamored with it. We don’t pick on him as much any more, but upon occasion we can still get a rise out of him by saying something about “My Precious”. It really is great fun!
