Viva La Minivan!

An actual conversation I overheard yesterday while out running errands.

Teenage cashier to the lady in front of me: “How are you today?”

Lady: “Fine.”

Teenage cashier: “It’s so nice outside, isn’t it?”

Lady: “It sure is.”

Teenage cashier: “Do you have any fun plans today?”

Lady: “Actually my husband and I are going to drive over to the beach, put the top down, and enjoy this beautiful weather.”

Teenage cashier: “Oh, that sounds fun. That’s great that you have a cool car that you can do that with. At least you’re not stuck, like,  driving a minivan or something.”

Both respond in hearty laughter.

Can we STOP with the anti-minivan propaganda, people?!

I will have you know that I, too, can drive down the coast with my top down. That sun roof provides ample amount of fresh air, while also keeping the heads of my children protected from the elements.

And the satalite radio keeps the jams pumping. I’m fond of the ’90’s station in particular. I like to “Pump Up the Jams,” if you will.


Sloan read me a story from the local news the other day of a Lamborghini that went up in flames here in Tampa. Literally went up in flames due to engine failure. My minivan has never burst into flames on the highway.


I pointed this out to Sloan after he read and he just shrugged his shoulders. “A Lamborghini is still cooler than an Odyssey, Mom.”

Maybe, but can a Lamborghini comfortably seat eight people, 15 sips cups, and stash a handful of stale fries under the seat for a rainy day?

A few weeks ago, I looked in the rear view mirror to see Landon frantically pawing at his tongue, a look of horror frozen in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” I asked, slightly alarmed.

“I ate the cheese stick I found under the seat and it tasted SO BAD,” he cried, tears welling up in his eyes.

Okay, so on occasion my minivan may poison small children, but no matter. It’s practical, predictable, and the sleek, sexy black exterior doesn’t hurt, either. That’s right I said sexy.

When it was my turn to step up to the cashier, I got that same genial greeting from the teenager. “Hi there. How are you doing, today?”

“Oh I’m fine,” I said with a smile, all the while formulating my response to the minivan comment. She smiled back and continued sliding my merchandise across the table.

“”It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” I asked, and she smiled and nodded her head.

“It really is! I get off in a couple of hours and I want to just get outside and enjoy this weather!”

I nodded and grabbed my bag of groceries, the fight going out of me at the girl’s youthful, giddy grin. No reason to burst her bubble now. Her day will come soon enough. The day when she walks into a dealership, hands them the keys to her cute, sporty car, and drives home in a minivan.

And the back seat will probably be noisy and stinky, and if she’s lucky full of moldy cheese. A trip to the beach will be less relaxing, but more fun. And all of this is okay, because at the end of the day her minivan will cost less than a fraction of a Lamborghini, and it won’t spontaneously burst into flames on the highway.

Viva la Minivan!

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