My car, a Suzuki Swift that I've had for ten years or so, has been relegated to third car status with the arrival of a Nissan (a Nissan! I ask you; who would retire a Suzuki for a Nissan?).
We've decided not to get rid of her completely; she's terribly reliable, in fairly good shape for a car that's never been serviced, economical, pretty in a girly kind of way, and easy to find parts for and fix - with the help of my one time, long, long ago, mechanic father.
No, instead of selling or scrapping her, we've decided to suspend her registration and buy a special cover for her to live under in the back yard. After all, we have the unreliable, about to keel over and die Mazda for me to use. The only advantage it has over Suzie is that it has a heater that works. And a radio.
For some reason we've decided that it's better for me to use that car as my runabout until it finally karks it instead of getting rid of it now and seeing how much longer Suzie can last until she finally passes. It's a very sad time for me.
Not tragic, goodness no, she's only a car; but she's a car that's been through a lot with me; breakups, make ups, births, deaths, marriages, length of country migrations, mercy dashes - she's always been there.
There are a lot of memories tied up in that car, memories that I feel won't be as poignant without her. S'pose I should be happy that hubby appreciates that and hasn't just demanded I get rid of her.
After all, it was I who brought the Nissan.