So last week Dad and I hit the Wellesley VW dealer, with Mom slinking along. All of our hopes were up, sort of:
- Dad's, because he liked the mileage of the diesel Jetta Sportwagen—and the sticker price.
- Mom's, because she read that the wagon would appeal to the die-hard traditionalist. That's her, all right.
- Mine, because I heard it was a great car for large dogs. I already had hopped into my friend Freckles' wagon one day, and found it charming.
- My sister's, had she been there, because the car comes in a couple of good colors.
|Ye Olde Wagon outside our summer rental in Maine. |
Note the wayback headroom. And the waterview.