Reality check. I have a seven-year old daughter. And a dog. That sheds. (Wasn’t supposed to be a shedding dog, but that’s a whole different story.) Anyway, the convertible is still about two cars away. But I had to get that off my chest.
The mini-van. I have a love-hate relationship with my van. It’s ugly. Not a sexy thing about it. But, it has leather seats that heat up in our cooler winters, great sound system, and room enough to pack in supplies for a week-long camping trip…with dog. And a built in screen for kids in the back (OK…only plays VHS, not DVD, but it is still fantastic.) It is loaded with every add-on you can imagine. Fog lights, leveller, power EVERYTHING.
I can’t bear the thought of putting a car out to pasture before its time, but this one is heading toward the pearly gates. Something just clunked. Something else is squealing. And there is definitely a bit of this and a bit of that leaking onto the driveway overnight. So, a couple of months ago, I started looking at cars…ones that would appeal to my Boomer sensitivities and at the same time fill my needs. I started off by looking at the Toyota Prius. I LOVE the concept of that car. Everyone I meet loves their Prius, except for my neighbor (also a Boomer) who does not find the same sex appeal in that cute little vehicle that I do.
Sadly, my child, dog and luggage will not fit in the Prius. A great car, but probably not for me…for a Boomer who had their kids younger than I did…perhaps a green-thinking empty-nester? But that easy rationalization did not dissipate my longings for the car. So, of course, thinking about the Prius, all I see, on every street, in ever driveway, at every gas station? Yup. That little hybrid. Only I just started noticing that a lot of them have lots of dents. And a lot of them have duct tape holding the passenger side view mirror on. And there have been a bunch with dented bumpers. Either Boomers cannot see properly to drive and need their eyes checked, or the cars are so light that they bend easily. That made my decision. Not a week goes by without me bumping into a garbage can, a rose bush, or hopping a bit too hard off a curb. I’d destroy that car in a heartbeat.
Apparently, I need my soccer-mom, crummy-for-dating van. Evidently, I’m doomed to another decade of van. But not to despair. There is a bright side! My daughter has informed me that when she goes to college, I’m to ditch the van and get an RV so she and I can travel the country together on weekends and holidays. Something tells me that an RV is just a touch bigger than my sporty, sexy little van. Oh. And she also tells me that she’ll be wanting a Prius.