With the help of a certified car seat technician from the local police department, I installed L’s brand new car seat in my old (circa 2001) truck this afternoon. The seat, a Britax Roundabout 50 Convertible Car Seat, is so big that I had to fiddle with the removable back seat cushions to get the thing in there.

That’s when the fun began.

Removing these cushions was like unearthing a time capsule from another era, another lifetime. Among the artifacts I discovered: two tent stakes, a book of matches, an empty flask of Jack Daniels, six cigarette butts, and a receipt from a campground somewhere on Washington’s Olympic Peninsula.

These findings certainly told a story; a story of a single kid who fled New York just before the terror attacks of 9/11 and landed in Seattle, where I spent weekend after weekend using my vehicle to explore the corners of Washington State.

My, how have times have changed.

I remember when I bought the truck (a Nissan Xterra, if you care), all that mattered was that I could sleep comfortably in the back with the rear seats folded down (I could, on a diagonal).

Now, of course, all that matters is that the truck still operates reliably (it’s got 115,000 miles) and that it has enough space and anchors to fit my Roundabout safely and comfortably (it does, thankfully).

Heck, with the car seat in, it’s not even possible to collapse the seats.

I could be sad about the new era, and lament the passing of those years when all I needed was a full tank of gas and an REI kerosene stove. The truth, however, is that I’m delighted for this next chapter of parenthood, and am happy that I had all of those other experiences before I landed here.

As for the artifacts, at the behest of some friends, I’ve saved the stuff as an eventual gift for L when she’s old enough to drive. One thing: I’m thinking of refilling that flask for her; there’s no telling when she might need it in a pinch.