My cars don't get jealous, I think they conspire against the carbon life forms. They're like cats, smart, aloof and always in charge.
Something will crap out on the convertible the night before you know it's going to be a glorious day tomorrow. You'll be forced to spend the night with her coaxing and cajoling her into running again so you can enjoy the day together.
If you don't fall for it, decide to show her who's the boss, and take another car out for the day there's a good chance the car you're going to "cheat" with will suddenly be out of gas. No one at home will admit driving that car until it was empty and you know, deep down, that it's a conspiracy.
In the end, the cars win. They always do.
mike
63 Spitfire