When I went in to get the oil changed today I learned that I’d worn my tires down to the bars and needed to replace them. Let’s be clear about this: I hate buying tires. Emphatically. Hate. Which is why Sydney has never yet convinced me to buy winter tires. We’ve shoved, slid, pushed, and muttered our way through three Ithaca winters with what are laughably known as “all-season tires.”

But now, looking at buying a new set anyway, and with winter setting in, I had winter tires put on, which means a) I will not be pushing the car this winter and b) I will need to buy a new all-season set next spring, right about when baby arrives.

Oh yes, and I see buying winter tires as the best way imaginable to ensure that Sydney and I will get jobs in a warm place and thus end up using those pricey winter tires for tire swings . . .


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