I drive a 10 year old Nissan Rogue. It’s like me in the sense that as it gets older it finds more problems with itself. That applies to everyone’s car, though. My grandma’s car is older than mine. It wears out quickly and needs repairs often, as does she. My dad is his car. Strong, and fun. His car rarely needs replacements. Except the one time where a lot needed to be fixed, like the only surgery he has had, on his hip. My grandpa’s car is quiet, and it has very few problems, it runs a different type of engine called a rotary engine. He runs off of a pacemaker. The Honda Pilot my mom drives is her personality. The car talks like she does, it moves like she does. It has a sports mode, but can also take it slow. It doesn’t have the best brakes, but I think we all love the car.