Death of a dream

 As if being a mom didn't not induce enough guilt, I have more now.  But that's how it goes.  You cannot support your kids dreams past what's reasonable.  Well, I can't.

A week ago Monday I came home to a notice from APD saying that Spencer's car was a public nuisance and had to go, yada yada, blah, blah....  When Hubby got home he railed for about 15 minutes that it was that F**k neighbor guy who stopped by a few days ago inquiring about it.  He's a busy body, holding  everyone accountable to the homeowners association rules, more yada blah.
Be that as it may...

The inside is deteriorated, the engine is gone, an extra hood and tires are in the garage, the paint is peeling, the registration is long overdue and frankly, it's a piece of crap.  Is it wrong to be thrilled that this "project" will be gone from my driveway soon?  Because I really want it GONE.  I'm sorry it didn't turn out to be the cool car he thought it would be.  He's young and idealistic.  He wanted something to work on, make his own.  But adulthood says you don't buy a car to play with - you shoot for something sensible, so you can earn a living, maybe buy a house, raise a family, think of the future.  When you have your own garage, the choice is yours.

All of those things require you to grow up a little.  It's harsh, but it is what it is.  You don't get to park your toy at your parent's forever, while you think about it.  Mom and Dad should get to have our driveway to use as we need to. We earn that right by being homeowners.  And Mom is sick of  this pile of junk here.  I  am.  Sorry, honey -   I truly am.  I want you to be happy.  But some dreams die.  They do.  Then we replace them with the best version of reality that we can.