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I read somewhere that when a man goes car shopping he should bring along his wife because she will ask about important details such as fuel economy, color and that lipstick mirror thingy. No kidding. My husband and I were at a car dealership recently and while he lovingly caressed the high-tech gadgets, I asked some pretty hard-hitting questions: How much does it cost to fill it? Does it come in mauve? As I'm getting into it, do these pants make my butt look big?

We bought our last car 13 years ago and it was fully loaded: It had roll-down windows, a cassette player and a steering wheel. Things sure have changed. The model we were considering had a park-assist camera, push-button start and landing gear. The dash looked like a Lite Brite game; the car was "intelligent" and I wasn't, darn it! I suddenly longed for the simplicity of our weathered 2003 Corolla. My husband sensed my trepidation and said, "Sit down and play around with it."

I slid into the driver's seat and accidentally activated the heated, vibrating seats. Corolla who? My husband, meanwhile, was googly-eyed over the Voice-Activated Navigation system. "Check this out, honey," he said. "You can ask it questions! Try it." I gave it a shot and spoke into the air: "Do these pants make me look fat?" The nasally android replied, "Sorry. I didn't understand the question. Please say something else." I tried again, "Should I lose weight?" She countered, "Did you say you want to go to Kuwait?" Duh. Polite enough, but I certainly wouldn't call it "intelligent."

After the nine-hour tutorial during which I learned how to start the car, program my favorite radio station and flawlessly apply eye liner using the lipstick mirror thingy, it was time for a test drive. I suggested we take it down to the Hamptons for the weekend, but the saleswoman got all huffy so we went downtown instead. During lunch hour traffic, my gadget-crazed husband insisted I parallel park to test the park-assist camera. Apparently, the shrill, annoying beeping and flashing red light indicated I was 'this close' to taking out a fire hydrant. Now you tell me!

We arrived back at the dealership with nary a scratch and more importantly, my smoky cat-eye was unsmudged. We bought the car, obviously, because my husband couldn't stop caressing the gadgets while proclaiming nothing had ever made him this happy. Whatever.

I admit it. I've forgotten all about that horse and buggy Corolla. I'll have you know, I can now back into a parking spot, apply eye liner while driving and best of all: I'm losing weight from those vibrating seats. Who's intelligent now?

- Colleen Landry

Colleen Landry has been writing since she was a beautiful and precocious child weaving tales of magic mushrooms turtles and princesses. Now a fully grown (ish) adult, her writing offers very little magic but lots of laughs. Colleen thinks laughing at others life's stages is healing and infectious. She has been published in Canadian Living magazine and the Globe and Mail, as well as various local newspapers. Colleen also teaches high school writing in an online environment where discipline is as simple as 'Ctrl' 'Alt' 'Delete.' She is married and has two teenage sons who eat even while asleep. Follow her on Twitter @LandryColleen and enjoy her blog, One Hot Flashin' Mama.