My best friend and I got our first cars at roughly the same time. They were matching red Jeeps. Iconic! We were hankering to take them for a spin. I donned my cowboy hat. It was impossible to drive a Jeep without a cowboy hat. I remember the anticipation and excitement arriving in his driveway and seeing his matching Jeep.
We jumped over the doors and into our Jeeps, folded the windscreens down to let the air rush our faces, and instantly took off into the backyard. The play set whizzed by as we bolted down the hillside. It was a perfect sunny day. Maybe spring. Ya definitely spring. My chunky knit was keeping me warm in the crisp air, and Andy was getting away from me. I quickly took a shortcut through the grass and narrowly missed a collision. It was epic!
We zigged and zagged our own trails until I started to experience engine trouble. This is a terrible for adults and even more terrible as a three-year-old. It started to lose life somewhere by the swings. Or maybe by the garden? Andy was getting farther and farther away. He was a speck in the distance, up by the driveway. I tried to pry open the hood, like adults do, and stare inside, hands waiving above my head. I gave up and ran towards the drive and the giant people pushed the Jeep towards its charging station as Andy and I took off back down the grassy hill in his crisp, red Jeep Powerwheel.