I just loaned my parents my Miata for a few days. I've often offered for them to use it, but with Dad having retired yesterday, they finally took me up on it.

Two things dominated my thinking as they left. First is how incredibly tiny that car is. I'm used to sitting in it, and I'm used to the view from it, but seeing someone else drive it is a wholly alien to me. Doubly so when it's my parents.

The second is that I finally understand what it must be like for parents to loan the keys to their son for the night. Intimidating. An odd mix of pride and worry as they see him drive away. Though I suppose that real parents are probably more worried about their kid than they are the car. Not exactly the same in my case.

I suppose I sound a bit overzealous when it comes to the damn thing. It stems from it being the car I've always wanted growing up, and from it being my first car. My first car. It's the most expensive thing I own, it's the first thing I turn to work on when an idle weekend comes up, and it's what I jump in whenever I'm feeling bored.

And mostly I'm just glad that they're finally gonna use it -- knowing that someone is going to come back grinning after doing something you do regularly is a neat feeling. It's like introducing someone to windsurfing, or mountain biking when you know they're just gonna love it. Share the love.

The weather should be perfect for cruising 'round the mountains with the top down. Now here's to hoping that they don't get stuck in traffic.