Julie, over at A Little Pregnant, finally got to take her new son home from the hospital. Reading the comments, all sorts of people sharing their memories of taking home their first baby, made me all misty as it brought back memories of bringing the preschooler home.

We had a tiny little 1988 Tercel at that time, which is theoretically a car with a back seat, but only if the people in the back seat are, say, leprechauns. And the people in the front seat are gnomes. Since the husband and I are both very tall, this meant we had to have the seats pushed all the way to have any leg room at, which left no room whatsoever in the back for a rear-facing carseat. We had to get a new car, with no idea how to pay for it, which would have been pretty funny if we'd been in a sitcom. As it was, we'd been trying to put the money together the whole pregnancy but were still not quite there when my due date rolled around.

In the hospital after she was born (I'll have to remember to share her birth story some time) I was waiting for the husband the morning we were to go home. I'd expected him first thing in the morning, but it was now getting much too late and he still wasn't there! I kept a watch out the window (in between cooing over my beautiful new baby) and so I saw him as he pulled up - but not in the Tercel.

He got out of a very nice, four door, Town and Country type of car. I couldn't believe at first what I was seeing. Surely I'd mistaken somebody else for the husband? But no, it was him. Did he go out and buy a new car to take the baby home in? I quickly sat back down on my bed and prepared to look surprised.

The husband didn't tell me about the car until we were out of the hospital, in the parking lot. I pretended to look for our Tercel while he grinned like a teenager. He showed me the car, I looked all goggle-eyed, and then the real surprise came.

He'd rented it. He didn't want to take our new little daughter home in the Tercel, because he didn't think it was safe enough. So he'd gone out and rented a luxury car to bring us home. It was a very safe, but very expensive way to make the 10 minute trip.

Yeah, 10 minutes. Door to door, no less. We were that close to the hospital. It wound up costing us nearly $100 a mile to get home. It's just as well we weren't in Julie's shoes. He wouldn't have rented anything less than a Hummer, just to be sure. And he hates Hummers.

It was so dear I actually refrained from throttling him. To this day he doesn't know I was anything other than delighted with his surprise.