Don't stare at me. I know it is taking me a ridiculously long time to parallel park this minivan. I would like to see you try it. This vehicle is like a damn boat. Big. Clunky. They do say that it drives like a car. It just doesn't park like one.
Your penetrating eyes are not making this any easier. I will not hit your sleek hybrid Prius. Promise. Even if I did, it would barely be a tap so please, just relax.
Don't wave me in. I didn't ask for your help. You are only making me more nervous. Say, do you want to try it? Keep in mind, I'll make you keep the three screaming kids in the car while you do it. A little distracting, no? A wee bit stressful.
Oh. You're judging me for my gas-guzzling van? This wasn't my idea of a dream car either buddy. But it's awfully hard to fit three car seats, groceries for five, diaper bag, emergency snacks, and a year's worth of preschool art projects in an Acura, okay? Believe me, I wish I could. I was quiet happy zipping around in my cute white Corolla. My philosophy: small person, small car.
I feel awkward driving around in this giant behemoth of a motor vehicle. And yes, I feel a tad bit guilty that I am contributing to the demise of our environment. But seriously. I can't pull around three kids in a bike trailer all day can I? A bus is a nice option, sure, until one kid has to be at soccer in the park at 10, the other has a birthday party across town at 10:15, and you have to buy 2 gallons of milk, 2 loaves of bread, a case of diapers, 2 pounds of chicken and 5 bottles of wine to make it through the week. *Yes. The wine is an absolute necessity. Have you met my children??
So please, please, PLEASE, can you just move along? There is nothing to see here, but a little mama, desperately attempting to park a big van, overflowing with hot wheels, orange peels and baby wipes, hoping against hope she will avoid a nervous breakdown.
Yes, I drive a minivan. Deal with it.