November 3, 2010
No one ever told my mom that when she had kids she was supposed to get a mom car.
This is weird, because she totally got the memo to wear pleated-front mom-jeans and she always used the time honored phrases, because I said so and if everyone else jumped off a bridge, would you?
To which I answered, yes. Because if all my friends committed mass suicide I would be plagued with the deepest depression and would have no choice but to join them.
That response just pissed my mom off, which was (and still is) one of my favorite things to do…
All through my childhood my mom drove tiny, fast cars.
I’m pretty sure her and my dad took me home from the hospital on the back of one of these bad boys:
I think it helped communicate to the world, Hey, I’m here! I’m kind of a bad ass, and you can take your five-point harness and shove it.
As a baby, my mom carted my brother and me around in a Toyota Celica.
Did she ever complain after countless trips to the grocery store or hoisting us in and out to our respective daycare centers? Nooo, because she looked hot. And looking hot is paramount. And it is what also led her to her next car purchase, a Nissan 3000ZX:
As a 4 year-old, I can assure you that this was the coolest car ever. While my friends’ moms drove station wagons and mini-vans, my mom drove a talking car that also had it’s very own Matchbox.
Yes, I said talking car. My mom’s car would go all Nightrider on your ass, saying things like:
Your door is ajar
Your key is in the ignition
You won’t go far driving with the parking brake on, Cyndi.
A few years after that my mom decided to get a new car, my brother and I were about 9 and 10, and she was driving us to soccer practice and dance class. Maybe just maybe she’d get a Volvo or something equally sensible?
Nah, she got a Chevy Camero instead:
The car was completly impractical.
It made me barfy.
It was a bitch to get in and out of.
It crunched over steep driveways and bottomed out at every dip in the road.
And my mom loved it.
She’d take the T-tops off and drive fast while the wind whipped through her perm, I however, would be in the back contemplating a juicy vomit on the upholstery.
My mom had that car for about 6 years, and then gave it to my brother.
He never did get that throw-uppy smell out of the seats.
Now I was about 16 and my mom didn’t have to drive us anywhere anymore. She was done with carpools and dropping us off at our friend’s houses or the mall.
She could finally get a car totally for herself.
So what does she get?
A Lexus 4-door sedan.
She finally got herself a mom car.
Way to go, Mom.