I, like you, never saw myself as this and vowed never to sink to this level of mommery back in my formerly hot life. Today, however, is a new day and I now drive a Loser Cruiser.
The word “minivan” has such a stigma, doesn’t it? I just don’t care anymore.
I am in love with this fine piece of machinery, this living-room-on-wheels. My heart swells with gratitude every time I drive it, knowing how much it has reduced the stress in my life in so many ways. I won’t bore you with the details of cupholders, cargo space, automatic doors and the like. You’ve all been in one at some point, I’m sure. The stories are all true and I’ve never met an owner who doesn’t gush over their Loser Cruiser.
I am one of them.
I’ve never been a pride-in-my-ride kind of gal because I’ve never had enough Benjamins to dream big when it comes to cars. My car ownership history is questionable: Ford Escort (totaled at age 16), Honda CRX (why in the hell would my parents let me drive this death trap?), Toyota Corolla (only wrecked it once), Volvo sedan (only wrecked it twice and only ran into the garage door once) and Loser Cruiser (only ran into the side of the garage once in 4 months). I really am a good driver but with bad luck.
My mom friends with SUVs have said “I just can’t go there” and “Don’t you feel so….conspicuous?” and my all-time favorite: “You know you won’t get a ‘look’ driving that” to which I replied “You are driving an SUV with 19 magnets on the back and a gaggle of kids hanging out the window. You think people don’t know you’re a mother? You think you’re getting a look from that hot guy pulled up next to you? Please.”
I embrace my Loser Cruiser and have turned in my cool card, for now.