The minivan is getting to the point where it’s just sort of craptastic. I had to have the battery replaced the other day, the automatic sliders seem to be losing some of their automatic-ness and there’s a small slit in the upholstery in the back – you know that never ends well..
But then today as I was leaving the market, it caught my eye in the parking lot. The minivan looked good. Like when you see someone and something’s different about them, maybe it’s their hair, or maybe they’ve lost weight, you can’t quite put your finger on it, but they look good. Better. That’s how it was when I saw my minivan.
Then the sliding door opened at the market and I walked out into the sunny parking lot and realized…
It wasn’t my minivan! Mine was in the next aisle over.
I’m a minivan mom. I’m a mom. I drive a minivan. Sure, it’s not the nicest car in the school drop-off line, heck it’s not even the nicest minivan in the drop-off line. But, as my mother would say, it gets me from here to there. And with 3 kids. And their friends. And the dog. And all the schtuff 3 kids, their friends and a dog come with. Plus, I can press a button and the door closes! I’ll never be “that mom” whose kid dings the soccer coach’s Mercedes every time he flings open the car door. That’s a plus, right? I mean, who cares if my 7th grader consistently refers to it as “The Loser Cruiser?” And my husband won’t drive it on his drop-off days (claiming that putting it in park to press the “door open” button uses up too much drop-off line time.) Or that the trunk is the size of a laundry basket and to successfully get all of the schtuff in there I have to pack it like an Ikea box without a square inch to spare.
Did I already say it gets me from here to there? With all of them? For now, I think I’ll just consider it “the company car.” The one I have to drive while doing this job. This job I love.