Mommy (and Daddy) Wars: Minivans vs. SUVs
Driven to tears by our family vehicles.
-Colin Sokolowski, accidentaladult.com
Some people believe that what you drive says a lot about you. If cars are, as many believe, reflections of personalities, then what makes people choose the vehicle they drive? If you’re like me, car sickness is what occurs when your monthly loan payment is due. That means it’s your bank account’s balance, not your indomitable persona, that will ultimately drive this decision. Unfortunately for many men and women alike, this economically motivated choice all too often produces a vehicle that tells the world you’re scrimpin’, not pimpin’.
But let’s suspend reality and pretend for one unrealistic moment that money doesn’t matter. What vehicle would you drive? Careful. To the most small-minded among us, myself included, your decision will say a lot about you. Especially when it comes to the classic car debate faced by women everywhere:
Minivan Versus SUV
After our first child was born, Kelly and I debated what kind of vehicle she’d need in order to cart around a growing family. So I did some research, which usually annoys the hell out of her. This time was no different, especially because of what I discovered. When it comes to chauffering children around suburbia, there seemed to be two kinds of moms out there: Minivan Moms and what I like to call SUV PYTs (sports-utility-vehicle pretty-young-things).
As you might guess, the Minivan Mom chooses her vehicle because of its practicality and affordability. Deep down she may prefer something sportier, but it’s not high on the priority list. And “sportier” doesn’t really fit with her CD player loaded with the Wiggle’s “Yummy, Yummy” sing-along songs and her cup holders filled with crumpled-up juice boxes and sour-smelling sippy cups.
The SUV PYT, on the other hand, wouldn’t be caught dead in a minivan (even though she might love the extra room of that magical stow-away third-row seat). To her, space and comfort are less important than bold styling and aggressive handling. She loves cranking Matchbox Twenty on her satellite radio connection, gabbing on her Bluetooth headset, and searching her dashboard GPS for the nearest Starbucks so she can sip another four-dollar grande latte. And as much as I hate to admit it, she usually looks damn good doing it.
