Little Orange Bus.
One year in our lives and you made us so happy.
One year we will remember:
picking you up in the middle of the desert, at that beautiful little home with all the wild cacti and mid century appeal, the long windy drive home following behind as you wobbled to and fro along that narrow highway. The trip to the mountains when it rained and the fog hung low, parked for a weekend by the riverbed where we watched Whitney and Eric say I do. The Sunday morning trips to the bagel shop and the endless afternoons spent climbing in and around those old tattered seats, hauling all the neighbors to the pool in summer, eating peanut butter sandwiches in your tiny kitchen nook in our drive-way because it was always so much more fun than the kitchen table.
Our drive-way looks sad and empty without you there. But the boy who towed you away looked like he might appreciate a new life inside your rusted cabin. A first time driver who will idealize you forever.
For now, we anxiously await the next addition. What he rolls back home to replace you with is a mystery, and part of the fun as we've come to know. And all the new adventures that await, all the good times you quirky old mobiles bring.