Tomorrow I'm trading in the keys to my trusty companion for the past two years.
Sir Lancelot.
Sure your air conditioning and rear defrost are broken,
and you shake when you're stopped at a light,
but we've had some good times the last two years haven't we?
Like the one time at youth conference I spent the night sleeping in the back seat and then we caught the young women writing "We Love You" in soap on your rear window.
Or just driving to and from campus singing along to the radio.
I'm going to miss you.
I am way too sentimental for my own good.
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