We had a blue 1969 Ford Fairlane station wagon. My parents bought it in 1973. Before that we had a white Ford Falcon station wagon. Dad had a red Buick to take to work and then he had a white 1965 Dodge Dart. In 1978 my parents bought their first truly brand new car, a red Chevrolet Malibu. The blue station wagon served us very well, but as our family grew bigger, it became more cramped. Of course when children tease each other, that doesn’t help either.
Once I was sitting next to Karen in the middle seat of the station wagon. We had been driving all day through the hot roads of New Mexico.
“Stop it Billy!”
Though I was between my seventh and eighth grade years in school I was picking my nose and wiping it on Karen’s pants.
Again she pleased, “Stop it Billy!”
“No, I won’t,” I teased.
Karen finally had enough. She called upon Dad for help. “Dad, Billy’s wiping his snots on me.”
Normally Dad was pretty patient with us, but this time he turned his head from his concentration on the road and screamed at me, “Billy! Stop wiping your snots on her!” The long drive that day had even sapped Dad’s patience. Normally we didn’t say words like “snot” either.
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