Luxury

Joseph and I were walking through a parking lot and one of these bad boys pulls into a handicapped spot.

“Whoa!” Joseph says. “Check out that car! What do you call those?”

It is like the maroon Buick Century we had when I was young, with the torturous backward-facing seat, only bigger, and woodier. I’m running through the names we called them as kids–beaver car (for the wood sides), bubble butt car (for the swollen rear)–and trying to figure out how to answer…

“Luxury!” Joseph says, stopping and admiring. “That’s it. Luxury.”

“You like those wood panels, eh?”

“Man, those just look so nice.”

Indeed.