Goodbye Twenties
Monday, May 3rd, 2010Goodbye twenties hello minivan,
Look out thirties I’m becoming my old man,
The keys are in my pocket,
I got the title in my hand
Goodbye twenties Hello minivan.
-Sterling Waters
Although I’m still technically only 28, the news we were going to soon be a family of 4 + one stupidly large dog was the final straw towards minvandom. While it was quite inconvenient and generally a huge pain in the ass to own only one car-seat compatible vehicle with one baby, it’s virtually impossible with two. Unless, of course, I plan to take both kids with me every single place I go for the next 10 years or so. NO THANK YOU. So down to the dealership we went to look at reasonable, grown up options, which ended up being…not so bad.
Still, someone please tell me how I’m supposed to give this up without being heartbroken:
The Mustang was my 23rd birthday present to myself from my wonderful husband and the car I dreamed of owning since I was 15. It was like going from being the timpani player in the marching band to head cheerleader overnight, with a really great tan and cool sunglasses thrown in. I swear it even made me look thinner.
The truth is I haven’t driven “my” car in more than a year, besides once or twice to the grocery store, and even then all I could think about was how inconvenient it was for buying giant boxes of diapers and value sized Swiffer refills. E drives it to work while I drive “his” Jeep, a car I like but never loved. I needed something new.
E had dreams of crew-cab trucks and full-loaded sedans when we first headed out car shopping. Navigation systems! Tow packages! Two-tone leather (which was one of the absolute UGLIEST things I had ever seen but he seemed to love)! But all it took was 30 seconds in a minivan – Fourteen cup holders! Room for the dog! Surprisingly good gas mileage! Extended warranty! – to realize it was practically inescapable. So it’s not glamorous or sexy or sporty. I’ll never pull up to a light and have the guy next to me try to race. I don’t even think anyone’s going to mistake me for the “hot babysitter”, despite what the minivan manufacturers might claim in their commercials.
But, dudes, I love my minivan.
I’m actually a little sorry now for people who don’t have minivans. Suckers.