IF IT WEREN'T FOR BAD LUCK

My daughter bought a new car.  Today she brings it by after she finishes her shift to show it to me.  It's a beautiful, shiny, blue Jeep Compass.  And I want a ride in it.

I convince her to take me to Staples.  She offers to let me drive her new car.

Seriously?

And then I remember the week I've had with cars:  My car broke down in the left passing lane of crowded rush-hour traffic on route 28.  The rental car Hertz put me in had a broken lighter port and no other ports anywhere in it, so I was stranded in th bowels of New Hampshire without cell phone or GPS.  Worse than that, the little car, a Toyota Yaris, is so uncomfortable that by the time I do get home, my back hurts and my knee has locked up.  When I finally got my own car back two days later, the dealer had reprogrammed my settings so that the car no longer beeps to lock, the doors all unlock when I open my door, and the doors do not lock when driving over 35 mph.

Maybe I'd better not drive her brand new, just-registered car.

After we run to Staples, we head over to one of the local schools.  My daughter steps out of the driver's seat, and I come around from the passenger seat.  In a bizarre role reversal, my daughter lets me drive her car around in a safe zone much like I used to let her when she first started driving.

I imagine it looks funny to the people nearby, but I don't care.  I do not want my horrible luck rubbing off on my daughter's car.

Although it's a new week, I can only imagine that the rest of my crappy luck will continue, whether it's with my car or my job or my thesis or whatever it may be this week... head cold, flu, severed artery ... IRS audit ... I'm sure there's something nasty awaiting me.

At least it won't be my daughter's brand new Jeep, though.  I know when my luck is running low.  No sense in pushing it.