Don't forget to use your patience.

This is my sweet baby niece, Sophia, who likes to kick and push people.

Her mother and I were out for a stroll on Sunday and, as two year olds tend to do, she stopped on every sidewalk crack, rock, bug, piece of trash on the ground, random penny, etc., to stop and inspect.

After several stops to see the various wonders of Zio's parking lot, Monica told her sweet baby to "hurry it up."

Sophia responds, "Mommy, I need you to use your patience, please."

One can't argue with that.

Cosmolene

This is my original fur-kid, Cosmolene Cascabelle Eaton. She is named after a song by one of my favorite Texas Music artists, Houston Marchman, called "Cosmolene" about a "redneck hippie truck stop cutie/roadhouse queen with a blue bonnet tatoo on her toe."

She has earned many nick names throughout her five years: "Lupita" for silently stealing and eating my crunchy tacos as a 4 month old pup on a road trip from Dallas; "Snob" for walking up to one person in particular at a party who was dressed poorly (read: GANGSTA) and peeing on his shoe. Out of about 80 people, she walked right up to him and tinkled on his big shoe; "Señorita Cosmolita" for stealing margaritas out of people's glasses when they weren't looking. The kid has got spunk.

My favorite story associated to Cosmo and her nicknames is "Cosmo Knieval." Let me paint the picture for you.

You know when you're a little kid and you learn the law of gravity at school, but you still think up ways to prove it? Like if you're riding in the bed of a pick up truck that's going 25 MPH and you jump straight up, will you fall out or land in the pick up truck bed?

I did my own inadvertent test. But I was in my late 20's, not my elementary school years.

It was a glorious, beautiful sunny day, perfect for a girl to cruise around with her convertible top down. My hair was down and flying and the sun was burning my cheeks. Glorious day!

Cosmo had socks on her feet (attached with rubber bands) so she wouldn't claw my new leather seats. I always kept a leash on her when she rode with me to act as a child seat: safety first!

I was speeding down the B.A. expressway (literally... 90MPH) and was blasting Willie Nelson. Life was good!! Sweet Cosmo's leash was attached to my wrist, but after a few miles, I noticed that it felt a little taut for optimum steering power....

I look to my right where my co-pilot sits and the passenger seat was empty. EMPTY. Keep in mind that when panic strikes and you're sitting in a chair, that's fine and good; but when panic strikes and you're doing 90MPH on a fairly crowded expressway, that's a little less comfortable.

My little black convertible coupe had only two seats, zero room behind those seats, and then led to the trunk area. Atop that trunk, sunning herself like the princess she is, was Cosmo, basking in the sun, head to the sky, paws stretched out like she was on a white sand beach.

I jerked the leash while simultaneously braking a little, sending my little sweet furkid baby into a blind panic of her own. She froze and immediately hopped back down into her co-pilot chair.

I still wonder what thoughts must have crossed other drivers' minds as I passed them at an unsafe speed with my Siberian Husky tanning on the trunk of my car, Willie Nelson's "Shotgun Willie" blaring... my blonde hair whipping me in the face (and not in a hot way, I assure you).

The good news is that little Cosmo didn't scratch my leather seats. She did, however, leave claw mark scratches about five inches long on my TRUNK from where I yanked her back in the car.

Not long after that, I traded in the fun but completely impractical shiny coupe for a 4Runner, specifically for the back window that rolls down so my little kid could bask all she wants, but not put me in jail for cruelty to animals.

Long live Cosmo Knieval.

Warranty honored. Who knew?!

I love my vehicle. I mean love my vehicle. I've had sports cars, coupes, other SUVs, and my 4Runner fits me perfectly. There's room for my sweet baby niece who likes to kick and push people till they bruise, as well as for my combined 220 lbs of fur-babies to ride in. They can even stick their heads out the back window that rolls down to drool on/flirt with other cars (respective furbaby personalities).

While I don't keep my car as clean as I'd like (you read the part about the baby and the fur), I do take excellent care of it. Having a P.O.S. with no working radio that requires you to drive around college with a battery-powered GHETTO BLASTER in the backseat will teach you to appreciate what you have (thanks for the deathtrap, dad; good times).

My car is only two years old and I bought it brand spanking new for a dang lot of money, but it's worth it. Quality always is! Why buy used when the interest rate is lower, hence the overall amount cheaper, on a sparkly new one? To sweeten that expensive deal even more, the dealership where I bought it offered a lifetime warranty on the tires, powertrain, and FREE oil changes. Woo!

Even now, two years later, I love everything about it: the dash controls, the MP3 player, the ride of a luxury vehicle with the practicality of an SUV. I've had no trouble with it, except...

One rush hour, I'm driving along, jamming out to an MP3, cruising through a very busy intersection by my house. I hear a funny noise followed by a loud CLANKKKK. I look in my rear view mirror and see a big ass sheet of metal skidding along the intersection with the many cars around me swerving to avoid it. I immediately look to my left and my right to see what old piece of junk and low rent driver would drive a car that has a 3.5' x 2.5' metal sheet coming off of it. That could have killed somebody!

Um, that would be me and my brand new, expensive, quality SUV.

I'm too embarrassed to pull over to retrieve it and at this point, so what can I do but deny, deny, deny? I continue towards the Y-- I can't be late for racquetball.... and I'm beet red.

One hour later, as I'm leaving the Y for the house, I see that some kind soul has picked up said big ass sheet of metal and placed it on the corner of the intersection. I should retrieve it... that will cost a lot to replace. Damn brand new car!

I pulled into the garage and honked for Sam and told him to get it. "We need to go pick something up."

He had no idea that I was making him act as my runner monkey to pick up the piece of metal as fast as he can while stopped in the intersection without anyone being able to identify me as that low rent person who lets car parts fall off.... and doesn't stop to pick them up.

Here's the fun part (fun to Sandy, a little embarrassing to me):

Now post rush hour, there's not a lot of traffic. In fact, even though the light is green, no one is even on the streets, so I can just brake and Sam can jump out lightning fast, throw the part in the cargo area, hop in and we're off!

I live near LaFortune Park so this metal sheet is on the corner across from the park where lots of people golf, jog and picnic. In my planning of execution to have Sam pick up the piece, I didn't take in my surroundings.

As Sam jumps out of the car at lightning speed, determined to pick up the part in Olympic-qualifying time, he nearly knocks over a preteen boy with a walkman who was waiting to cross the street.

Here it is, 7:30 in the evening with dusk approaching, hardly any cars out... except for this black 4Runner screeching to a halt with a large, hairy man jumping out of the front before the car was fully stopped.

All the blood drained from this sweet pre-teen boy's face, fear filled his eyes. I think he dropped his walkman (at least the head bopping and dance wiggle stopped).

He thought we were kidnapping him.

I got my car part back and the kid probably recovered quickly, although I haven't seen him jogging alone since.

So now, months later, I went to the dealership and said I needed my "metal sheet thing" replaced. The nice serviceman said "your skid plate?" "Um, yes, my skid part."

Come to find out, although this metal sheet was welded on at time of manufacture, mine somehow came loose... in the middle of an intersection... during rush hour.. and almost cost me a felony count of child kidnapping.

With only 24K miles on it, the dealership shocked me by showing me the bill for the part replacement, apologizing, and covering the part under warranty. I've had warranties before.. they were just a piece of paper to make me sign on the dotted line.

All in all, car malfunctions could be worse. And once all the parts fall off my car... the tires, wheels, bumper and maybe a door or two.. I'll replace it with yet another 4Runner.