![]() | ||
Or so I keep telling myself |
So close to the ground with doors that slide,
Tears of laughter over you I've cried.
Not quite a bus, but much more than a car,
Your bumper laced with stickers claiming, "My kid's a star!"
From the perch of my Jeep, I hauled my kids to school,
Only 14 MPG…but still ever so cool.
While you in your van, looking Old Mother Hubbard,
No doubt going to Wal-Mart to restock your cupboard.
From the ball field to dance class,
The grocery and work,
"It's just transportation,"
Oh please…don't be a jerk.
Your car is your identity, it defines your style.
At least so I thought for a good long while.
My road to acceptance was long and grueling,
And almost as painful as the constant refueling.
"I can't get a van! I can't, no I won't!"
Until that day when my back I near broke.
My dilemma, the fifty-eight pounder I call Becca Boo,
She can't climb into her booster the way other kids do.
With limited leg room and out-swinging doors,
I was heaving, and hefting--it's no easy chore.
So after much research and some tears over beers,
I made the decision I've been fighting for years.
Practicality over appearance,
Function over fun.
I've got myself a minivan,
My SUV days are done.
So goodbye Jeep Commander, hello Honda Odyssey.
I look forward to smooth sailing road trips,
Tears of laughter over you I've cried.
Not quite a bus, but much more than a car,
Your bumper laced with stickers claiming, "My kid's a star!"
From the perch of my Jeep, I hauled my kids to school,
Only 14 MPG…but still ever so cool.
While you in your van, looking Old Mother Hubbard,
No doubt going to Wal-Mart to restock your cupboard.
From the ball field to dance class,
The grocery and work,
"It's just transportation,"
Oh please…don't be a jerk.
Your car is your identity, it defines your style.
At least so I thought for a good long while.
My road to acceptance was long and grueling,
And almost as painful as the constant refueling.
"I can't get a van! I can't, no I won't!"
Until that day when my back I near broke.
My dilemma, the fifty-eight pounder I call Becca Boo,
She can't climb into her booster the way other kids do.
With limited leg room and out-swinging doors,
I was heaving, and hefting--it's no easy chore.
So after much research and some tears over beers,
I made the decision I've been fighting for years.
Practicality over appearance,
Function over fun.
I've got myself a minivan,
My SUV days are done.
So goodbye Jeep Commander, hello Honda Odyssey.
I look forward to smooth sailing road trips,
and ample room for the ENTIRE freaking family.
![]() |
Actual photo taken on our trip to Yosemite two years ago. My sister still has her Commander. I am now forced to get my cool from her. (Please don't tell her I said that) |