Ode to a Minivan

Oh, Soccer-Mom-Minivan you were so fun and new when we first picked you up. Clean seats, nary a crumb, low to the ground, so easy to get into and out of, the clever sliding door. We were enamoured with you, oh Minivan. They crowed, "can we keep this Minivan?" "Can we change our car and get a Minivan?" Oh how fun you were, and how loved. You did the morning carpool, and we took you to soccer, even. You even called my name, etched in the license plate. It was like we were made for each other. You were such a good FIT!

And then I brought you back to get my regular car, "Good-in-Snow-Suburban." And there was a small patch of snow on the ground on the shoulder of the road. And when I went to turn, oh Minivan, you just let go of all your responsibility to my family! You gave up. You froze, you choked. That was your chance, to show me what you were made of, Minivan and you blew it. Slid us right into the curb, slammed so hard your tire blew out and went flat as a pancake. All the life deflated out.

Oh, Minivan. There was hope for you in our family. There was a shining ray that maybe you were the car for us, that maybe we could just trade in this gas-guzzler for a clean-burning, efficient vehicle like yourself. We were seeing the light. And then this.

Good-in-Snow-Suburban would have just rolled right over that curb with a smirk that it dare get in the way. Oh, Minivan. You'll just never do. Not while we live in Colorado. You'll just never do.

P.S. Imagine my expletives when I get this flat tire 4 feet from where I'm supposed to drop this car. Fortunately, that insurance that you're never supposed to buy because you're already covered and that I cursed myself for purchasing out of fear actually came in REALLY handy today.

P.P.S. After going all the way home with my shiny, fixed Suburban, getting comfy on the couch with my girlfriend to watch some taped Oprah, I get the call that I FORGOT TO LEAVE THE RENTAL CAR KEYS!

Oh, Minivan!