Pumpkin'ing

Most of us grown ups remember fondly our first car. Mine was no exception.

Who could forget a bright orange Ford Mustang with an engine that leaked oil and a hatch back roof with grimy black fabric seats?

Every first car needs a name. Mine was no exception.

I called her Pumpkin.

When I loaded up my fellow band geeks for a run to the local Hardee's for some Cokes and cinnamon raisin biscuits, we'd refer to our activity by creating a verb out of a proper noun. We'd be pumpkin'ing.

Ah- she was a sweet car. Hung some of the Raisins (used in Hardee's commericals in the late 1980's) from my reveiw mirror becase we ate so many cinnamon raisin biscuits.

Sadly, one autumn day she left us. Not to be carved into a scary faces or smashed on someone's lawn like more traditional and organic pumpkins, but Pumpkin was no more because her little engine couldn't function anymore.

My next car was bright red. Gave her a name too; Tomato.

But it was never the same because a tomato is a fruit that thinks it's a vegetable. Obviously, vegetables make better names for cars.