the new car.

One night the police knocked on my door because a crazy man with a gun was chasing my neighbor around the street, and they were wondering if I happened to get a good look at a certain car parked right in front of my window. I drew a complete blank. White, oldish, rounded corners, smallish?
"How old? Was it built within the last 10 years?" the police man patiently asked.
I have no clue. It wasn't shiny and new. But the make and model and car number plates? Complete blank.

There are many things I care about the minute differences in. For example, I'll happy analyse the different breads and pastas for sale to insure we purchase the one with the most whole grains that the's best value for money. I've planted 6 different types of basil, several different types of beans, 8 different types of tomatoes and three different colours of beetroot. I care about diversity and minute differences and the importance of choice- I just find it really hard to care about the car that I get driven around in. They all get me from A to B in air conditioned comfort.

I honestly couldn't tell you anything more about M's new car other than it's a Nissan, and it's silver. Oh, and it has a tray thing in the back, like a ute, except there are back seats. I couldn't tell you anything about the previous car, expect that it was a red Holden. But Willow?  She can actually identify cars with a similar make to whatever M has, and point out the differences. She actually enjoyed walking around the car yard, hoping to pick out a car. She nearly cried when she thought we were leaving without a new car. I just want a new car! I'm so sad to leave without one, she wailed.

Today, a friend asked Willow what she thought of the new car.
It's perfect, she breathed, delighted and content. Just perfect. 

Willow has really embraced this car thing.