You Are What You Drive

I’m starting to believe there is a classification hierarchy for families. I’ve been giving this a great deal of thought lately and have decided that we all, like it or not, fit into groups which, oddly enough, are defined by the type of vehicle we drive. Bear with me here while I explain the acronyms… HUMMERS (Happy Urban Money Makers Exuding Radical Success) – This is the one family on your block that’s constantly on the move yet has never once been spotted carrying bags of groceries or lugging the trash to the curb. Their pristine lawn never appears to need cutting (and you secretly believe it’s really indoor/outdoor carpeting). Every weekend, they emerge – supermodel parents and perfect children, clean and camera-ready – wearing their activity-appropriate outfits, tossing their way-more-expensive-than-necessary bags into their way-more-powerful-than-necessary vehicle and off they go. This is a rock-climbing family, a white water rafting family, an extreme sports family. They’re adventurous, daring, and appear to be having so much more fun than your family ever will. It’s hard not to hate them (and you secretly do). MINIVANS (Moms In Nikes Intently Veering Around Normal Schedules) – We’ve all heard about soccer moms (and some of our husbands routinely fantasize about soccer moms, though they’d never admit it). These are the families with the woman at the helm, shepherding large groups of children (not all her own) to sports activities, dance lessons, martial arts training, day camps – you name it, she drives to it! These women are bouncing all over town (yes, literally – but don’t ask your husband – he’ll swear he didn’t notice) in their designer workout clothes and sleek blonde ponytails, nary a hair out of place. It’s hard not to hate them (and you secretly do). SEDANS (Sensible Everyday Dads Anticipating No Surprises) – These are the sort of “middle of the road” folks - the common sense family living within its means but harbouring dreams of upward mobility. These families do everything with balance and forethought. They drive a vehicle that’s not too showy, with payments they can actually afford, and with one seat for every butt in the house. They take vacations without the nasty twins, Visa and MasterCard. Most of their fun takes place within a one-mile radius of their backyard and routinely involves a grill. Yet, they are among the happiest, most stable people you know. It’s hard not to hate them (and you secretly do). HATCHBACKS (Harried And Tired Couples Hauling Bags And Collected Kids’ Stuff) – In your lifetime, there’s a good chance you have been, are or will be a “hatchback.” No doubt about it. Almost all of us will be half of that couple, struggling to cram squirming children through two less-than-adequate doors into car seats with restraint systems preferred by NASA – all the while, balancing a diaper bag on your ass. Even with one child, a stroller, change of clothing, bottles, diapers, wipes, assorted toys and pacifiers compound a simple trip to the grocery store. The worst thing about “hatchbacks” is that, when you’re actually IN this category, it seems that everyone else in the category is doing a better job than you are, with more patience than you will ever muster. It’s hard not to hate them (and you secretly do). So, I’ve come to the rather startling realization that I must hate my neighbors! Actually, I don’t – not even secretly. They’re all nice people at varying “vehicular” stages of their lives. Our family seems to be in transition. We’re matured “hatchbacks” carefully considering our “sedan.” We could theoretically become “minivans” but I’ll just never be a soccer mom. Sorry honey… but hey, on the up side, at least mine are real. Oh, and dear? ‘Round about the time you’re done contemplating them, we’ll discuss the hummer.