Eating Pie

Eating humble pie, that is. (I know this is my second post today. Wowzers. What ever will we do?) So I'm driving around town in Bessie this morning. I didn't realize how vain I was...or more accurately, how vain I am. There is nothing wrong with Bessie (besides a few minor things and a little bit of paint oxidation). Good grief, she's 17 years old! That's pretty old for a little truck, but she still runs pretty well. Anyway, she's going to have to last at least 8 or 9 months, and that's 8 or 9 months that we will have to drive her around town--and be seen driving around town. I want to put some big letters on the window that say, "We're getting debt free. What's your excuse?" Because somehow that would defend my honor and appease my vanity as I drive this old truck around. Ick. I hate that I'm so vain! I saw someone I sort of knew at the store and I didn't want her to see me get into that old truck, but at the same time I'm thinking, "Go ahead. Ask me why I'm driving that old truck." It's not like we live in some posh neighborhood of some big city and everybody else in town drives some nice, paid for, fancy-shmancy car. This is a small town and I would guess that over half the population drives beaters. I honestly don't know who I'm trying to impress. It's craziness, I tell you. Really, it's one of Satan's little helpers that I'm letting bug me, so to that little imp I say, "Back off! You are not aloud to bug me, tempt me, or try to stir up trouble with me, my family, or my finances because Jesus said so." Maybe I should put that sign on my car...