I was at the MVA (or DMV- depending on your geographical location and/or your generation) earlier this week. After removing my belt in front of 4 old men I did not otherwise know, I walked through the metal detector and made my way to a chair to wait for my number to be called.
While I sat and counted ceiling tiles, I also eavesdropped on an old lady and her relic of a mother have a conversation, at one of the service cubicles, with the MVA employee. The older old lady was so old she did not even have a standard birth certificate.
I heard the employee ask the cotton haired lady, if she had any hearing or vision impairments. She immediately- well as immediate as she could manage- looked at her old lady daughter through her thick as a coffee table eye-glasses and said something that makes, "HUH?" sound eloquent.
I mean I understand old people do not want their driving rights taken away, but it frightens me to core to think of this 142 year old on the road. She was also very short. If you live in my area, be on the look out for a white fluff of hair peering through the steering wheel of a very old Buick going the wrong way down the highway. Or possibly the median.
Why was I at the MVA where time and life stand still? I had to turn in my tags. My Santa Fe has moved onto a land free of toddler hand prints and lollipops. She served us well, but her time has passed.
There is no easy way to say what I am about to say, so I will just supply you with a picture:
I am OFFICIALLY a minivan lover. She's a nice sensible basic model. No DVD player. No GPS. I have a year of free satellite radio, but so far, I'm not that impressed. I have counted 452 cup holders at this point, but I have yet to venture into the third row of seats, so that number may go up.
Right now, Parker cannot reach the windows so they are hand print free. The CD player has yet to be jacked up by my sweetP. And my two favorite features are I can control the radio from the steering wheel (!) and I can hook up my ipod without using the old skool cassette tape connector method.
Although, perhaps I should have sprung for the GPS model. I recently got lost on the way home from a baby shower that was about 90 miles away from my house. Normally for me, a 4 hour trips take 7 hours and a 7 hour trip usually requires an over night stay at a seedy motel and possibly a Sherpa.
Truthfully, it was a difficult bullet to bite. I feel like I've crossed some dividing line and I need to confess and introduce myself to the others. My name is Nikki and I drive a minivan.
I will do my best to stay as cool as I can, but I have a feeling it is all slipping away. After officially purchasing the car I texted a picture of it to my older sister and she said, "Oh, it's not that bad. It looks more like an SUV than most minivans." My sister is good people.