The Story Behind the Bandaid Car

Introducing:

Bandaid

Back in 2021, I was peacefully driving through the streets of Orange County when — BAM! — out of nowhere a truck came flying and hit my little Smart car. The impact spun me around like a dizzy teacup ride nobody asked for. I was just grateful my kids weren’t in the car at the time.

This Smart car was the last thing I had left from my past marriage (and honestly, I had been plotting to sell it because of all the memories attached). But now it was badly wounded.

First, the horn went silent — no voice. Then the “smart” features glitched out — no brains. The mechanics shook their heads and gave it 4–6 weeks. Basically, my car had turned into the stubborn little patient that refuses to quit. And weirdly? That’s when I stopped wanting to sell it. I thought, “Okay, fine… you’ve got fight in you. Let’s see how far you’ll go.”

But then something magical happened.

My kids, who were already emotional about the accident (“That car almost killed Mama!”), couldn’t stand seeing the wound on its side. One day, my son came home with a giant bandaid from school — he had told his teacher that his mama’s car desperately needed it. 🥺

We slapped that bandaid on, and suddenly the whole car had a new personality. People started noticing it, smiling, snapping pictures, and cheering us on. The car went from “wrecked” to “loved.” And somehow, against all odds, four years later it’s still alive and kicking (well… wheezing, but still rolling 😂).

This little Bandaid Car has carried kids to school, driven seniors to appointments, hauled groceries, and basically become a rolling symbol of resilience and community love. It shouldn’t still be here — but it is. And honestly? That bandaid healed more than just the car.

Of course, I still dream of one day replacing it with a custom-built community car — something about the size of an SUV but with cozy limo-style seating, a step so seniors can climb in easily, and a sturdy table in the middle for comfort and connection.

Until then, the Bandaid Car keeps rolling — reminding us that sometimes the things we think are broken still have so much more to give.

So if you ever spot us driving around with a giant bandaid on the front — give us a wave 👋. We’re living proof that even cars (and people) can heal in funny, unexpected ways.

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The Price of Community, The Cost of Convenience