A Visit to My Husband’s Family Home

Yesterday, our family of four drove to my husband’s family home in our Panamera for a memorial service. A little while after we arrived, an older relative came over and asked:

“Whose big white car is parked out front?”

The people around him started asking, “Whose car? What does it look like?” But it was obvious he meant our Panamera. My husband didn’t say anything, and it would have felt a little odd for me, the daughter-in-law, to jump in with, “That’s our Porsche Panamera!” So I kept quiet. Then another aunt chimed in:

“Oh, that one? The slightly gray one, right? That’s Dad’s Crown.”

The old man replied, “Ah, right. It looked more white than gray, though. So that’s a Crown. What a big car.” And that was the end of the conversation.

…Wait, no! That’s not a Crown, Uncle! It’s a Panamera!

The Misunderstanding Goes Uncorrected

Once the conversation had moved on, I no longer had the nerve to correct him. Because I didn’t say, “That’s a Panamera,” when he first asked, this uncle—who’ll be turning 80 soon—is now going to spend the rest of his life thinking:

A Panamera is a Crown. That’s what he’ll believe from now on.

And if I bring it up the next time we meet—

“You know that car you called a Crown the other day? It’s actually called a Panamera.”

—he’ll probably just say, “What are you talking about? When was that? You’re making no sense,” and that’ll be the end of it. So I guess I’ll just have to let the misunderstanding stand.

I hope he gets a chance to discover the Panamera while he’s still around…