I wanted a minivan. I was pregnant and there was no way 3 car seats were going to fit in the back of our car. I begged, I pleaded, I lobbied and eventually I won. Kind of.
We live in a delightfully wet part of the nation. It rains 478 days a year. I am not even exaggerating. My most fervent argument for the minivan hinged on this precipitation. I did NOT want to buckle in my kids and then run around to the other side of the car to buckle more kids in. . .then load groceries or what not...all in the rain. I wanted my kids to get in....climb in after them and buckle them all up in the luxurious dry minivan of my dreams.
We got a minivan. A mini-minivan. I do love it except when it rains. So really, I have a love-hate relationship with it 478+days each year.
Here is the interior of my van.
I have one car seat in the center of the back row and each seat in the middle row has a car seat on it. Okay? See how cozy it is in there??
So here is what happens: I snap Pookie into his car seat. Then I run around the car and buckle Evan in. Then I climb half into the van, leaning over Evan to buckle Eli in...all the while my tush in in the air.
Except for this morning. My ass was hanging out in the rain. The top half of my bod was nice and dry in my *ahem* luxurious minivan while Eli decided to examine every inch of the car before finally climbing in his seat. Did I mention that I had donned a skirt today? That happens when I actually shave my legs. So, about once a year. Mmmhmm.
By the time the bigguns were all buckled in, my skirt was plastered to my derriere.It was a comfortable drive to school! "Mama wet her pants!" The above routine unfolds again, but in reverse once at school. So Pookie and I are standing in the rain while Slow-Mo Jo and his even slower brother decide to exit the vehicle.
They finally reach the pavement and I turn to close the door. Trusty gusty wind chose that moment to blow my skirt up and pelt my butt with rain. PELT. The whole parking lot got a nice view of my Costco undies since I had no free hand to pull my skirt down. Good thing I opted for the Grannie Panties!
This did not elevate my mood.
Only my skirt.