I Remember When

There was a time my father drove a brown Chevette. No, not a Corvette. A Chevette! As a child, I was embarrassed of it. He took me to school one day, and I had it all planned out. I wanted him to drop me off where no one would see me. More specifically, "behind the buses." Much to my surprise, my dad parked the car by the front entrance, with two tires on the sidewalk. I hurried out the door, but he started beeping the horn and yelling at me. The horn sounded like a chihuahua with a sore throat. All these years later, I'd give anything to have an old Chevette. My dad still laughs at me about that day.