Bring Back the Woody!

Last week my car died. It was no surprise as it had many signs of premature old age, and, honestly, it was a little heart-warming to see it carried off by the tow truck. The best part is we actually got paid by the salvage yard! I could not even give my last car away and ended up having to pay $50 just to get rid of it.
Now comes the not-so-fun part of trying to hide from greasy salesmen while figuring out what to buy. I always thought that station wagons were hideous and their owners must all be paid marketing staff, or actors from Leave it to Beaver, or poor college students who inherited what their parent could not pay anyone else to take.
Then I had a child. After nearly 3 years of trying to stuff strollers and the like into the trunk of a Focus, I decided hatchbacks were one of the greatest inventions ever and the bigger the better. The other day I saw it. A giant, orange, Volvo wagon, boxy and roomy enough to hold a captain, several shipmates and a full load of cargo. My first thought was no longer, "Boats belong on water, not land" but "Do you know how much I could fit in there?" I might have drooled.

My new dream car.