Minivan-Man

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! It's time to drive yourself over to dad-blogs.com, where a bunch of great bloggers are "parked."

So, this week, we took THE PLUNGE!

As you may know, Bab-E (#3) is coming soon, and it was finally time to break down and get A MINIVAN!

(Or, as my friend, Kid-Nee, describes--and he's allowed to since he owns one--the "Barket Lounger on Wheels")

That's right, in a 3-person deal, Honda got my Mustang, Mom-E got the Minivan, and I got Mom-E's Toyota. That said, I will still get to do a fair amount of Minivan driving.

I should clarify something: A Mustang is a horribly unfriendly car when it comes to child seats. Impossible to fit a rear-facing one, and even a forward facing seat is like putting your child INTO a sardine can. The only reason we kept the Mustang around as long as we did is that it was paid for.

We've been talking about getting the minivan for awhile now. I find it amazing that almost every time I brought it up with another guy, I got comments about how getting a minivan was akin to abandoning my manhood (in a variety of ways).

Hmm...methinks some folks are a little insecure about their masculinity, perchance?

Personally, I think it's cool.

I draw the analogy that getting a minivan is like the episode of Friends where Joey delights in the pleasures of his "man-bag."

Just like Joey said, "There's all kinds of places to put your stuff."

Not to mention, if you're going to travel by car with multiple kids and a pregnant wife, would you prefer to be cramped in a compact car or actually have some breathing room in a minivan.

Would these same guys tell me I'm abandoning my manhood if I fly first-class instead of coach? (Never flown first-class, but walked by it enough to make the analogy).

Anyway, we've really enjoyed the boys' reaction to the minivan, which Big Brother has now dubbed "The Mystery Machine." Nice.

Little Brother (our potential future veterinarian who prefers to play ball over anything too "technical" right now) saw the minivan the next morning upon awakening. When asked if he like it, he said, "No. I want cereal", but has since come to perseverate on the fact that "There's a new car in there (garage)."

Big Brother, on the other hand, (our future engineer/architect), got to see the minivan right after we brought it home.

He proceeded to do a high-kicking dance in the driveway (wearing only PJ's), screaming, "I love this car. I love this car." (What a missed video opportunity).
Anyway, he wasted no time blowing off sleep to crawl through EVERY INCH of the minivan and press every button his little fingers could find.

The next morning, while Little Brother was busy cereal-hunting, Big Brother asked (while making a bee-line) if he could go "play in the minivan" before going to school. Again, more button pushing.

Of course, given the ultra-strong magnetic power of having to imitate your older sibling, Little Brother is starting to warm up to the minivan, too.

For now, we're just enjoying the fact that it's never been easier to get the kids into the car.

And so, here's to the start of our life with a minivan. May we soon find it hard to imagine how we got by without you.

Thank you for having enough "gadgets" to keep us men-folk occupied, and the functionality and space that will make Mom-E very happy.

Have a good weekend, Drive on!
Busy-Dad-E

P.S. I need help renaming "my" Toyota. When Mom-E was the principal driver, Big Brother called it "Sally" from the Disney Cars movie. Any suggestions to complement "The Mystery Machine"?