Dad and his girls

The other day my father calls me and he is totally distraught, I got worried for a few seconds. First I got worried that he called me cause he almost never calls me, i call him and tell him what is going on in my life and he pretends to listen after which he usually says shoo off now i need to work, or here talk to your mother. Well he called me to tell me that his princess "The Cadillac" had been sold to the highest bidder; that car had been standing in the garage taking up space for almost a year now due to a seized engine, just last week my sister had called me to tell me that the cadillac had been sold at the junk yard. I was flabbergasted, that was not possible dad would probably sell one of us before he sold that car really. Just as i suspected when i called home my sister candidly informed me that no the car was standing where it always did under the shelving unit in the garage. This time round he had actually sold it to his most trusted car mechanic who has taken off numerous cars off of our hands before; with the promise that he was to buy a new engine and fix the car and use it for him self. I used to think that car would probably stand in the garage even after we all are gone, it would be written down in his will that the car be donated to a museum or at worst have it own trust fund.

See my father has always had a passion for broken down cars, i still remember as a child when he d bring home an old old model from the junk yard and than try and repair. There was the black mercedes with the hole in the bottom, the cetron with the hole in the roof which had an umbrellas in it. The volkswagon which had a mind of its own and only started when it wanted to and the all time favorite, the mustard colored mercedes which was so loud that neighbours confused it with a dump truck.

Well my dad says men who take care of their cars, take care of their wives and daughters too. I say if they have time after taking care of their cars they might take care of their wives. I never will understand the fascination men have with cars, one of my husbands friend had a purple colored monstrosity he was very very possessive about. It was a Pontiac Thunderbird he had rigged up so it was louder than a supersonic jet, it was colored the gay color of purple and one could easily mistake it for Barney the dinosaur and he had the back seats taken out. When that baby rolled up people shook up and took notice. That car was probably the longest running add on craiglist when it was put up to be sold, not so much cause no one wanted to buy it, but because the seller was very particular whom the car was going to be sold to, it was like giving a daughter in marriage. The match had to be perfect and she had to be happy with the fellow. Finally some lucky dude got it in exchange for his mustard yellow bike and some cash.

Same is the case with my father and his Cadillac he has finally married her off along with his first born his precious van and now he is only left with two of his precious princesses and his daughters. Lumina refuses to run more than 10 km without bursting a tire and sonata well that car has had every one of us learn how to drive on it so its gone from a sedan to a Suzuki Mehran in a matter of a few years. I have hope now because if he can sell the Cadillac he can sell them as well. He was quite jealous of the fact that now the "daughter in law" (bahoo rani) as he refers to moms car will be standing in the garage; the queen bee had been dethroned as to speak.