That is not a typo.
We are not discussing Australia or restaurant chains.
We’re here to chat about this:
This is a Subaru Outback®.
In the city in which I reside people drive vehicles falling into one of four categories:
1) Trucks (of various shapes, sizes and horsepower)
2) SUVs
3) Subaru Outbacks®
4) Everything else
Of those Subaru Outbacks® at least half of them are some shade of green. Based on my sound scientific research and clever mathematical analysis this means that there are probably around 40,000 green Subaru Outbacks® in this lovely little town.
Give or take a few.
The only time they are outnumbered by anything besides people is between May and September when the geese visit and leave little presents on every square inch of green public use space they can find.
But I digress . . .
This is what happens when you live in a town with 40,000 green Subaru Outbacks® . . .
When you decide to meet friends in the parking lot after work to head out for 5 o’clock hors d’oeuvres and a glass of wine they say to you, “I’ll meet you at my car – just look for the Outback®.” They don’t even have to say Subaru™ because when the word “outback” is spoken here no one has visions of kangaroos and koala bears just all-wheel drive and bike racks.
“Gee, that’s helpful,” you think. Narrows it down to slightly less than 100 cars in a parking lot that holds 375.
Being aware themselves that there are tens of thousands of Outbacks® in town they considerately add, “It’s a green one.”
Really? Well that narrows it down to about fifty. Shouldn’t take much more than an hour to locate your friend. By then you’ll need more than a glass of wine.
All of this being said, it wasn’t surprising to me when I discovered the parents of my daughter’s new-found kindergarten friend drive a (drumroll, please) . . . green Subaru Outback®.
Ah . . . but little did I know.
This green Subaru Outback® would be easy to spot in a parking lot – or on the highway – or anywhere.
Do you see what I see?
Notice the charming window decorations?
I have to admit . . . I was tickled to see little stickers plastered all over those windows. Not only would I forever be able to find our new friends on the road and wave madly across six lanes of traffic, I was pretty sure we’d get along just fine.
Not only do we both have small children.
Not only do we both have pediatricians who hand out stickers.
But our outlook on life is strikingly similar . . . at least from the back seat of our respective vehicle.
See . . .
Their view:
Our view:
These are the things on which friendships are built.
Never prone to exaggeration,
D
D
Ingies n' Things 