Days as a Car Babe

I used to be an auto show model.

Technically, I guess that is not true. First, the term is not "model," it is "product specialist." And second, I wasn't really the one hired for the job. Mommy Chick was, but I was the size of a blueberry hiding in her tummy during one of the world's biggest auto shows last season.

I tried to be helpful. I knew she was worried about outgrowing her uniforms, so I made her throw up. A lot. Non-stop actually.

See that picture? Mommy Chick is the one of the right clutching a small bowl of fruit, praying not spew it all over her friends' shoes. I am hiding under her jacket.

I learned a lot while being a model, uh, I mean product specialist. These are the phrases I heard most:

No, I don't come with the car.
No, we don't have any posters.
Diesel is not loud and diry.
Fine German engineering (That's my personal fav. Mommy Chick would randomly say that when all other words escaped her)

The reason I'm telling you all this is that since I arrived, Daddy Dude thinks MC and I need a new ride. We aren't sure what rocks our world. Currently, we have a cute little Volvo.

Daddy Dude wants us to look at the Volvo XC60:

Or the crossover vehicle made by Cadillac (SRX, I think):
I personally think he is trying to head off any possibility of a mini van because it is hard to look butch in one.

What do you think would be the best way for MC to chauffeur me around town?