Entries tagged with “Minivans” from Car & Caboodle
Yesterday we brought you to the front lines of a battle raging in our school drop off lanes and mall parking lots. The Minivan Wars. We met with the rebel front - moms who told us about why they would rather drive pretty much anything besides a minivan. Their arguments were compelling.
Today we hear from minivan loving moms who have drunk the Soccer Snack Kool-Aid, and lived to tell the tale. They answered my query in overwhelming numbers. They also sported such a consistant story line, that I initially felt they were either members of a bizarre cult, or truly on to something .
While the Anti-Minivan Moms had a real knack for poking fun at the van drivers, the Pro-Minivan Moms seemed to take this in stride and had no problem poking fun at themselves. They were nothing if not good sports. Their message to moms everywhere?
Time to Get Over Ourselves
When it comes to moms who love their minivans, the politics are still at play, but priorities have shifted. For most of these women, it was a shock to find themselves at the wheel of their minivan. How did they get there?
I originally began to research this article because I was in the market for a new car. As a mom of four kids, I was being advised to buy a minivan. With so much fervor that I found myself bristling. I decided to speak to some other moms of multiple kids about their car choices, what drives them, and how they felt about the minivan. Did I ever get an earful! My quest led me to the discovery that there was a underground battle going on in the Mom Community. I call it "The Minivan Wars".
In this installment of our three part series, I headed out to the resistance front. I found myself entrenched with some friendly rebels. Their flag flies high with regard to this war, and it says:
Over My Dead Body
My sampled group of mini-van averse moms were rather vehement. You would not catch them cruising the mall parking lot at the wheel of a mini van. Ever. Not even if hell froze over or they had a fourth kid. All of them seemed to share the sentiment that minivans were the harbinger of the beginning of the end. The flat shoe-ed, sweatpanted, three inch rooted equivalent of "letting yourself go".