It's nerve-wracking when you're down to one hoss. Husband rode the Miata to the local drivers' license bureau, and Fio is sitting at home trying not to think of all the dastardly things that might happen along the way. Like that he'd get picked up for driving without a license and Fio's baby car would be impounded, leaving them completely without transportation. Like that he'd lose the ONE AND ONLY KEY. Like that he'd get into an accident. Like that he'll run late, forgetting that Fiorella needs the car by 1:00.
But if all goes well, Husband will come home with a replacement driver's license in hand, and we will pick up his repaired boat of a car tomorrow, which will put two hosses in our corral again. Then Fio can let her well-developed worrying powers dwell on whatever other possible crisis rears its ugly head.