Junior has gotten used to his “big boy bed” now, but there were a few hiccups along the way. On the nights he decided to get out of bed to come visit me a few dozen times, I kept my brain on the inside of my head by counting his giggly sorties and thinking about my favourite car from that model year.
After the 36th trip back to bed, I thought about the beautiful lines of the ’36 Ford three window coupe, and what great pre-war era customs they make. After the 49th trip back to bed, I reflected on the revolutionary styling of the ’49 Mercury and ’49 Ford bodies, and the end of the fat fender era. You get the idea.
One particular evening, it took an unusually long time for his tiny eyes to fall shut, and his tiny bum to stay in bed. After sixty-seven trips out into the hallway (I am not making this up), things got quiet in his room at last, and the snoring began. This gave me a few extra minutes to think about my favourite car from 1967, the Corvette Stingray.
Seriously, look at that car. How awesome is that?