Silly discussion topic of the week at our house: Is this type of car a boy or girl car? Yes, we really had that discussion. Yes, we’re probably a bit weird. But I’ll try to explain …

Bear, 17, is looking for his first car. He has been scouring the used car ads and sharing his finds with Blue Eyes; they have a man chat about each one, most of which is way over my head. Of course, being Mum, I am not really included – it’s probably because the sum total of my contribution (apart from driving lessons and putting up with Bear’s music during driving lessons) is to nod (knowingly) and say something infinitely wise like, “Cool”.

I decided to try harder at the weekend and looked up a few cars on the ‘net. Most were vetoed by Blue Eyes. I persisted (I’m known for that) and found a great Subaru Liberty with, get this, only 149,000kms on the clock! Blue Eyes said it was above Bear’s budget (by $800 and it was negotiable). Undeterred, I showed Bear, pointing out the low kilometres, the brand’s good reputation … and waited for his response (I expected it would be something like “Cool”). Instead, he said, “It’s fugly”.

Fugly? Fugly? For those who don’t know, that means really, really, really ugly. Blue Eyes agreed. Not with me. With Bear. And then added: “It’s a girl’s car”.


So started a game in which we each mentioned car models and assigned a gender to each one. Falcon: boy. Kia Rio: girl. Landcruiser: Boy. New VW Beetle: girl. Old VW Beetle: boy. And so it went on … I must say I am much more educated in that area now, thanks to Blue Eyes, though I think I’ll leave the car stuff to him from now on. I don’t want him to choke again, like he did when I asked if he would be seen in a hot pink ute (Aussie for utility vehicle) with a fluffy pink steering wheel and matching seat covers. Gosh, I was just joking.

Apart from being more educated than I was the other day, Blue Eyes and I had a good old giggle. We realised it was refreshing to talk about something silly other than kids who won’t get out of bed or do homework/chores, our increasing roles as unpaid taxi drivers, and our work day that starts early in the morning and continues until well into the evening. So, we continued our gender discussion for a while longer, pondering the philosophical issues of “Is a Mars Bar a boy chocolate or girl chocolate?” and “Are lollipops girl or boy sweets?” Scintillating stuff, I know. Hey, whatever works.




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