The Blue Car

It was sleek, fast and sexy. I believe the electric cars and the huge track Santa put in our basement was worthy of our efforts, and that the cars were based on period models.

I chose the white car. Whoever got to bet with me (nothing but a brownie or cookie) got to choose the car. They always chose the blue model, so I got the white one. I knew how to keep and manage my speed on the curves and the blue car would fly off the track and be back a length.

He was a hare, I was a tortoise, who nearly always won, the one with the heavier car, and I was eight and knew how to not choose. Get the smart, stable one especially if your competition doesn’t know how to choose the right car.

Don’t be silly, I had to drive the blue car many times and learned how to do it without flying off the track. I won those races as well because it was faster so I ran it faster on the straightaways and I let it slow on the curves. The guys never got that point, they just wanted to go fast.

I once had kids over when I was 12, boys and girls. We had a ping pong tournament and I was in the top two paired against a skilled male athlete at school. I won. He threw a fit and told me that a girl should always let the boy win any game. We were not dating, nor was I allowed to date anytime in the near future.

No way. If I’m better at a game than you, I’m just better. I’m the white car and you just flew off the tracks. Game, Dee!


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