Soccer Mom

When I was in high school, my parents had a teal blue Dodge minivan. I got to drive it my junior and senior year, because it was better than the alternative they offered. None of my friends had fancy cars, but they had normal cars. And the fact that I, a teenage girl in the prime of her youth, was driving a vehicle made for a mom with three kids was a constant source of embarrassment for me. My fellow classmates got a kick out of my ride, and I quickly became known as "soccer mom." Awesome. Talk about the ultimate uncoolness... I vowed that I would never drive a van in my adult  years, even if I was a mom with three kids that needed to be driven to soccer practice five days a week.

Fast forward to 22, when I finally bought my first car. A real car. It was a 2007 Ford Fusion, silver exterior, black interior. It was used and was by no means fancy, but it was beautiful and represented freedom, adulthood, coolness. I drove that thing around like nobody's business for three years. Fast forward to 26. I quit my job, left my car in my parents' garage, and moved to England for grad school. I was fine without my car and truly enjoyed using public transportation during my time abroad. But now I'm back at my parents' house while I figure out what I'm doing with my life, and I'm once again faced with an awkward car situation.

The good news is that my parents no longer have the teal mini van. The bad news is that they now drive a gold one from circa 1999. The even worse news is that my license is expired and my car needs to be registered again before I can drive it. So what does that mean? It means that for the week that I've been home, I've had the pleasure of being chauffeured around in the van by my youngest sister. My parents were kind enough to add me to their insurance, but the thought of driving around in the van makes me feel unbelievably unsexy, and I'd rather just stay home.

Every time I'm in the van, it's as if I'm living the embarrassment of my 18-year-old self all over again at 27. For some reason, the whole embarrassment factor never registered with my parents, and they have zero sympathy for us. They had zero sympathy for me when I was in high school or for either of my sisters when they  were in high school. My brother, now in high school, will soon be faced with the same embarrassment. I suppose if we came out of it alive, he will too.

Since I'm not planning to be in Michigan for long, I was going to hold out on registering my car until I know where I'm going, but I don't think I can wait. Gold mini vans are the ultimate incentive for me to get my own car back on the road. I refuse to prematurely be a soccer mom ever again.