It has happened. I own my very own minivan. In my heart, I’m still rebelling against it. There is rage. Oh yes, there is rage. But also, there is a sliding door that closes with a button, and a trunk that fits my ginormous stroller. So there you go.

And really, how mortified can I be about my own ride when my new son is rolling the neighborhood on a princess bike? It’s all about perspective.