I could spend many blog posts writing all about my husband, but I can sum it up in one sentence: he drives a Kia.
We sold one of our two cars before moving from Washington to Florida, and we bought the Kia from my father-in-law while passing through Alabama. It wasn't the car that we had intended to buy, but after discovering some mechanical problems with the planned purchase, it was the one we ended up with. It was supposed to be mine after I learned to drive a stick, but one brief lesson involving lots of yelling (by me) made it quickly apparent that wasn't going to happen. So I kept driving my paid-for-and-dearly-loved Mustang, and David started driving the Kia.
Then after the Mustang was totaled when I (pregnant with Nathan) got rear-ended, I drove an Altima, and he drove the Kia.
Now I drive an Explorer, and he still drives the Kia. Ten years later.
He hates that car. Loathes it, actually. And I don't blame him a bit. It's beat-up, makes strange sounds when it moves, and seems to be held together by some sort of invisible duct-tape.
But he keeps driving it.
Because his family is more important than a car. Because he wants his wife and children to be in the safer vehicle. Because he's not willing to put us in an unnecessary financial bind. (All vehicles purchased since we've been married have been used and bought with cash.) Because he loves me dearly.
Because David is the kind of man who puts others first. Fiercely loyal. A servant-leader. A husband worthy of great respect.
He hates the sight of that thing. I think it's beautiful.
This post may be linked up to one or more of the following blog parties. Check them out! Monday: Menu Plan Monday on I'm an Organizing Junkie Wednesday: Works for Me Wednesday at We are THAT Family Friday: 5 Minute Friday at The Gypsy Mama, Company Girl Coffee at Home Sanctuary, Pieces of Amy Other days: A Wise Woman Builds Her Home