Week 23: Redefining the word “cool”, mini-van style

mini-vanFor the record, I have never been particularly interested in what I drive. I think part of this stems from growing up on a farm, where the idea of form and function was just a fancy thing I read in magazine advertisements. I drove whatever had keys and enough gas, whatever could get me from point A to point B.

These days, things are still the same. I’m not crazy interested in cars. But when we made our prep-for-the-twins list and realized that the logistics of three car seats, three diaper bags, a triple stroller, and an average load of groceries were going to pack my current car to the brim, we decided it was time to buy a different vehicle.

Enter: Decision making mayhem.

What do we want? What do we need? How big should it be? Drive train? Tires? Miles? Timing belts? After looking through a slew of ads one night, I realized I didn’t have a clue. But I didn’t really want a mini-van. Why? Because….well…. um….

No one starts off wanting a mini-van. They are the official vehicle of women over thirty and grandparents over fifty. They are billed for soccer games and tennis practice. They are unmistakably family-oriented-bring-the-dog-people-hauling-machines. They aren’t cool.

There. I said it. Mini-vans aren’t cool.

And here’s where I have to eat my words. Because if I’m fair and honest, I’m not cool either. I’m 31, and am about to have three kids. I haven’t cut my hair in a year because I feel guilty about making the time and paying a sitter. My main sources of clothing these days are a collection of hand-me-downs, thrift store items, and clearance rack specials. I rinse out ziplock bags and use them twice. And I still eat graham crackers and grape nuts for breakfast. I’m pretty sure this is enough to keep me on the non-cool list for the rest of eternity.

Meanwhile, Jason wasn’t buying my lame excuse about not wanting a van. And Jason, in case you don’t know him, is the king of informed decisions. He reads. He researches. He compares. And when he buys something, (be it a sleeping bag, a turkey call, or a vehicle), he makes the best decision he can given the information he has.

I love this about my husband, because I am the opposite. If I see something I like, and can convince myself I really need it, I go for it. (Which is why I spent an entire weeklong trip in the Boundary Waters with no functioning water shoes. Hey. I thought Croc Mary Janes seemed like a good idea at the time.)

I’m also still in pregnant brain indecision mode, so I wisely decided to step back and let him make the call. And thus began our two week period of open season Toyota Sienna mini-van hunting madness. Stay tuned. Week 24 was pretty crazy.


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