Creative Cookie: A blog for Proud Grandparents to Enjoy
Terry Lage, known as Creative
Cookie, is the writer of the Melodies
About Me personalized songs. She
also loves to share her pride and
joys of being a grandparent through
writing the following blog called,
"Creative Cookie".
Cookie, is the writer of the Melodies
About Me personalized songs. She
also loves to share her pride and
joys of being a grandparent through
writing the following blog called,
"Creative Cookie".
May 8, 2008- Minivan
Don't make fun of my minivan, please.
My sweetiepie Patrick, who sits with me, side by side on thrones
of grandparenting, really wishes he didn't have to sit side by side
as we tootle through town in my minivan.
Oh, don't get me wrong. He gets the practicality of it. He was the
FIRST one to suggest that we purchase the added feature of a DVD
player so that when we were traveling with our precious "little
joys", they would be entertained. Just the other day, as we were
taking little Carson home after his weekend stay, we HAD to stop
in the drug store to purchase the new SHREK movie. Carson LIKES
the original.
He's only one year old. And PawPaw wanted him to enjoy the
sequel. This is a man crazy in love with his grandson. He is crazy
in love with grandkids period. Me, too.
That is why, when I had the opportunity of a lifetime, to get a cool
red Mitsubishi convertible sportscar like my dear neighbor Vikki,
I buckled and chose a Dodge minivan instead. At the time, we only
had the promise of grandchildren. But this cool granny-someday
was going to be ready and waiting with a vehicle that made a
statement about her heart for the next generation.
That statement is probably something that Sweetiepie Patrick
wrestles with. He, a distinguished looking gentleman with salt and
pepper hair, once pulled in the driveway in a Mustang convertible.
Silver, to match his hair. And he did look so good driving that car.
In the summertime, he looked like the sun-kissed handsome
George Hamilton. Whooo!
The Mustang was great for a while. It proved to be less than fun
as we slick-slided in the Iowa snowstorms. While we put the top
down in warmer seasons and felt like we were beach people from
Malibu, I truthfully hated having my hair blown to bits. Detangling
at the end of our joy rides put me in bad moods. I don't sound like
much fun, huh.
The concept of having a car that felt "young" was good in theory.
The Mustang stayed around for a short while. He then bought a
Lincoln. A big, silver car. Distinguished looking and reliable. Just
like him. (It is now close to turning over the 250,000 mile mark on
the odometer.)
Come to think of it, perhaps I should have chosen a silver minivan.
He might have felt more at home in it.
I honestly bought a navy blue van to match the shutters of my
house. The salesman of the car dealership declared that he had
never in his whole life heard of anyone making a color choice
because they wanted to be color-coordinated with the shutters. I
felt a little anal when he shared that...shallow to a degree. But
hey, why not have it matching? Move over, Martha.
And sure as the sun rises and sets everyday, I desired a minivan
because of my vision for the future. I dreamt of little butts in
carseats. I wanted room for a bunch of carseats. And Sweetiepie
relented. (But while we were at it, we had to get the DVD player.)
So, for 99.9 percent of my driving time, I am the single one in a
minivan. A blue one that matches shutters. And we have carseats
that just stay put and are ready for our little darlings.
The kids, all at one time or the other, made fun of the minivan. Our
daughter Lisa inherited the old one and was a really good sport
about it. Being the optimist that she was, she tried to see the
possibilities, rather than the difficulties of being a twenty year old
in a minivan. She could haul a kayak in a minivan, if she owned a
kayak, that is.
She could have given a lot of friends rides to the mall. That wasn't
a good idea, however, since our Golden Retrivers got bored while
waiting for me to grocery shop, and chewed through four of the
seven seatbelts.
We offered the minivan to Nate, our son, but he politely declined
saying he'd rather take the bus, cab, train, bike, walk, or if
necessary, hire a team of dogs and sled for winter travel. He
responded with a smile and that was at least, something.
And Lisa, goodheart that she was, drove our old minivan around
until the air-conditioning went out. She then felt that it was time to
upgrade to a compact car. Under her breath, she swore on the
ashes of her beloved grandmother that she would never own
another minivan.
We'll just see about that.
As for Sweetiepie Patrick. He likes to be in the driver's seat and
it means that there is sacrifice to be made when driving with
grandbabies. There is not a DVD player in the Lincoln, after all.
The mini-van. It isn't considered the coolest or most hip mode of
transportation, to most. But to me, it is like having a home with
a bed for everyone. And I am most happy, when I have a houseful.
Or a van-full.
I have to say that the navy blue minivan is a big step up from the
humongo white station wagon that we drove when OUR children
were little.
But it served our family of nine, well. As will my Dodge minivan.:)
My sweetiepie Patrick, who sits with me, side by side on thrones
of grandparenting, really wishes he didn't have to sit side by side
as we tootle through town in my minivan.
Oh, don't get me wrong. He gets the practicality of it. He was the
FIRST one to suggest that we purchase the added feature of a DVD
player so that when we were traveling with our precious "little
joys", they would be entertained. Just the other day, as we were
taking little Carson home after his weekend stay, we HAD to stop
in the drug store to purchase the new SHREK movie. Carson LIKES
the original.
He's only one year old. And PawPaw wanted him to enjoy the
sequel. This is a man crazy in love with his grandson. He is crazy
in love with grandkids period. Me, too.
That is why, when I had the opportunity of a lifetime, to get a cool
red Mitsubishi convertible sportscar like my dear neighbor Vikki,
I buckled and chose a Dodge minivan instead. At the time, we only
had the promise of grandchildren. But this cool granny-someday
was going to be ready and waiting with a vehicle that made a
statement about her heart for the next generation.
That statement is probably something that Sweetiepie Patrick
wrestles with. He, a distinguished looking gentleman with salt and
pepper hair, once pulled in the driveway in a Mustang convertible.
Silver, to match his hair. And he did look so good driving that car.
In the summertime, he looked like the sun-kissed handsome
George Hamilton. Whooo!
The Mustang was great for a while. It proved to be less than fun
as we slick-slided in the Iowa snowstorms. While we put the top
down in warmer seasons and felt like we were beach people from
Malibu, I truthfully hated having my hair blown to bits. Detangling
at the end of our joy rides put me in bad moods. I don't sound like
much fun, huh.
The concept of having a car that felt "young" was good in theory.
The Mustang stayed around for a short while. He then bought a
Lincoln. A big, silver car. Distinguished looking and reliable. Just
like him. (It is now close to turning over the 250,000 mile mark on
the odometer.)
Come to think of it, perhaps I should have chosen a silver minivan.
He might have felt more at home in it.
I honestly bought a navy blue van to match the shutters of my
house. The salesman of the car dealership declared that he had
never in his whole life heard of anyone making a color choice
because they wanted to be color-coordinated with the shutters. I
felt a little anal when he shared that...shallow to a degree. But
hey, why not have it matching? Move over, Martha.
And sure as the sun rises and sets everyday, I desired a minivan
because of my vision for the future. I dreamt of little butts in
carseats. I wanted room for a bunch of carseats. And Sweetiepie
relented. (But while we were at it, we had to get the DVD player.)
So, for 99.9 percent of my driving time, I am the single one in a
minivan. A blue one that matches shutters. And we have carseats
that just stay put and are ready for our little darlings.
The kids, all at one time or the other, made fun of the minivan. Our
daughter Lisa inherited the old one and was a really good sport
about it. Being the optimist that she was, she tried to see the
possibilities, rather than the difficulties of being a twenty year old
in a minivan. She could haul a kayak in a minivan, if she owned a
kayak, that is.
She could have given a lot of friends rides to the mall. That wasn't
a good idea, however, since our Golden Retrivers got bored while
waiting for me to grocery shop, and chewed through four of the
seven seatbelts.
We offered the minivan to Nate, our son, but he politely declined
saying he'd rather take the bus, cab, train, bike, walk, or if
necessary, hire a team of dogs and sled for winter travel. He
responded with a smile and that was at least, something.
And Lisa, goodheart that she was, drove our old minivan around
until the air-conditioning went out. She then felt that it was time to
upgrade to a compact car. Under her breath, she swore on the
ashes of her beloved grandmother that she would never own
another minivan.
We'll just see about that.
As for Sweetiepie Patrick. He likes to be in the driver's seat and
it means that there is sacrifice to be made when driving with
grandbabies. There is not a DVD player in the Lincoln, after all.
The mini-van. It isn't considered the coolest or most hip mode of
transportation, to most. But to me, it is like having a home with
a bed for everyone. And I am most happy, when I have a houseful.
Or a van-full.
I have to say that the navy blue minivan is a big step up from the
humongo white station wagon that we drove when OUR children
were little.
But it served our family of nine, well. As will my Dodge minivan.:)