It's Official

Our cars are now official Minnesotans. They are licensed, insured, and dirty. The midwest in March is extremely grimey. One trip to the grocery store and the muddy, sludgy spatters of melted snow, salt, and dirt have covered your nice clean vehicle. A very nice ammenity of our once-swanky apartment building, however, is a car wash stall in the underground garage. Unfortunately, Mr. P or myself will still have to actually pull the car into the stall and employ the hose in order to accomplish the actual washing. We hope to turn over a new leaf and begin washing the cars regularly. Especially our wonderful Honda, lest Papa Peanut (who bequeathed the car to us), have heart failure when he comes to visit.

While our cars are now official residents of this fine state, we are not yet officially licensed drivers, because state regulations require that we present certified copies of our birth certificates in order to obtain a license. Licesnsed or not, I'm not sure that we'll ever feel like true Minnesotans, especially after our trip to Byerly's today, where we encountered an alarming situation in the "Hispanic Foods" aisle. No corn tortillas. At all. It does appear that they carry them sometimes, but there were none to be found today. Oh, how we will long for authentic Mexican food. El Cholo . . . . *sigh*.

Byerly's did make up for some of my grief, though, with the hand dandy grocery conveyor belt, the lolipop for Miss P, and the kind words and smiles for Master P. Perhaps we'll become official Minnesotans after all.