Don’t Diss My Mom-mobile!

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As I pulled into the kids’ school this morning to drop off Joely and Ari, I proceeded to:  jump the curve, bump a garbage can, and earn a disapproving glance from the parent parked ahead of me. If it’s not obvious, I’ll admit it — I’m tough on my mom-mobile.

The aforementioned “mobile” is a 2008 Honda Odyssey with 35,834 miles on it. It may be unusual for someone to know the exact mileage of his car but, in my case, I’m counting down the allowance left before I hit my limit of 36,000 — with five months to go before the lease is up.

It’s a lousy situation to be in given I have two different schools to chauffeur kids to and from; not to mention gymnastics, dance and — oh yeah — my job! The ironic thing is I really love my mom-mobile. I never, ever, thought I’d say that about a minivan.

As a matter of fact, when we got our first minivan (a Chrysler Town and Country — which sucked and we gave back under Michigan’s Lemon Law — arguably a different blog), one of my neighbors bought me a T-shirt that said something to the effect that my life was pathetic because I had a minivan.

Of course, if you were trading in your BMW 330i for a T&C minivan, you’d likely be depressed, too.

(To be fair, it was more the thought of a minivan that I found distasteful; of course, driving that Chrysler didn’t do much to assuage my anxiety.)

Then we got the Honda; life seemed a little brighter after that. The impetus for getting a minivan was the birth of our third child, Ari. You could, in theory, squeeze two kids in the back of a sports coupe. But, I knew three kids just weren’t happening.

And, frankly, after we got the Honda — I realized just how much easier life was with two sliding doors, four captains’ chairs and a removable seventh seat — it was my “Come to Jesus Moment.”

Now, faced with the threat of my mom-mobile parked in the driveway, motionless, for five months is just too much to bear. Thus, I have been quite prudent with my driving. No double trips to the grocery store.

If I forget to grab something after I leave the house (which is so ridiculously probable), or leave something at work — it’ll have to wait. Hence why I have taken to giving each of our children some pocket money — should I hit 36,000 while en route to get them, they’ll need it — for cab fare!

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