Hater-ific

Alright people, do I look like freaking Clark Griswald? No. Will I ever drive a mini-van, a regular, big 'ole cargo van or a station wagon? Not on your life. My mom had a kick-ass black and silver astro van that she rocked pretty hard core and that all us kids loved and spent loads of time in while she carted us between here and China for all of our extracurriculars. That's my mom, that's not me. Why is it that as soon as you are impregnated, everyone imagines that you can't wait to get your swollen little hands on a damn Dodge Caravan? I know that lots of people have them and lots of people love them, but that's not me. It just isn't in my being, my fiber, my...anything. For the most part, the majority of people that know me, didn't expect anything different when I finally bought a car. However...the majority tend to keep their cakeholes shut and it's the annoying haters that can't quit their yapping about your personal decisions.



So, you may have heard that my little bambino's impending arrival prompted me to lose the 13 year old wheels and pick up the closest thing to a tank that could be purchased for under $1 million and was street legal. I was looking for the Porsche-designed German Panzer VIII Maus but my husband nixed the idea labelling it as a 'crazy pregnancy emotional fit' (as if) but I think he didn't like the idea because I wanted it in pink...with a sunroof. We compromised and picked up the most tank-like-but-still-pretty SUV to protect our little monsters. It's pretty and huge and safe and comfy and has an awesome stereo and sunroof and rides high enough that you feel like you're in a semi-truck and can totally eavesdrop on all the cars you pass, which is Will's new favorite game. 'Hey mama, guess what that guy was doing?' I love it, but am scared at the same time that he's going to have an early education on what people do when they think they aren't being watched.



But anywho, so we bought a car. No big deal, right? Unless you're one of those people who say 'congratulations' when you buy a car as if you've achieved something special other than procuring a mode of transportation, just like everyone else in this gas-guzzling nation has, it really is not a big deal. Oh wait. Also, unless you are one of those people who think that your opinion, A) absolutely must be heard by all, B) matters in the least to anyone other than you or your extremely fugly effeminate husband, and C) you simply lack the gene that allows you to be happy for anyone else when they reap the rewards of their hard work because your a jealous, hating little biz-natch and everyone knows it. Oops, was that out loud?

So maybe you're sitting there with two friends who have riden in the behemoth and are gushing about some of the cooler features. From across the room you hear, 'so you need this huge car for your one kid?' Um...thanks for the admission that despite knowing me for nearly two years, you are so egocentric that you didn't realize I already have one kid and so this one will make two. One plus one does not equal one. I respond to this unfortunate person stating that, "besides a minivan and station wagons (see above paragraph devoted to my hatred of these vehicles), SUV's are the only cars with the third row seating option and we plan on having another child and will have two in car seats and one in a booster so felt this was necessary."

A future MENSA president then commented, 'so you need a row for each kid?' Well no, genius. This I had to explain REALLY SLOWLY as I was acutely aware of the IQ level I was dealing with. "The third row means there are two rows in the back in addition to the front (adult) seats. There aren't three rows of seats in the back like a freaking 14 passenger van you can rent for a spring break trip." Thanks for playing. This is when the two turn to eachother and continue to whisper conspiratorially as if they are not sitting in a roomful of people who just heard that entire conversation and know exactly how immature they're continuing to be at this point.

To these poor souls and anyone else who feels the need to have an opinion on my choice of vehicle, let alone waste their own time forcing this upon unsuspecting listeners, I defer to one of the smartest women alive, Tina Fey. In her acceptance speech for her Golden Globe win for 30 Rock, she responded to some of the 'special critics' with the simple phrase, 'suck it.' (This can be viewed by youtube or googling Tina Fey 'Suck It' golden globe and is HI-larious, as is Tracy Morgan's speech later in the night.) So, there you go. Don't like my car...suck it. Think it's too ostentatious...suck it. Don't know how many kids I have or what a third row of seats really means in a car...really suck it. Because I've been told that sometimes these drag on, we'll end it here. Stay posted for updates following graduation and the first baby shower which should provide entertaining fodder in the weeks to come.