The Grocery Getter

I drive a mini-van. I feel like that should be the opening line to Mother's Anonymous. It has been 14 minutes and 12 seconds since I last drove my minivan.

It is the true and official symbol that my care-free days are over. I used to pick on people that drove mini-vans by saying things like "where is your Soccer Mom bumper sticker?" And naturally I had to stick my foot in my mouth the day one showed up in my driveway.

Not only do I drive a mini-van, but it is a dirty mini-van with 2 honkin' dents in it as well. And, I'm pretty sure if you look really closely under the driver's window you can see the faint markings of the words "pee" and "poop" forever etched in the paint.

I drive a mini van with the full knowledge that I am now in the ranks of Soccer Mom. And, that every time I open one of the doors, a bevy of children are expected to come pouring out. I get this.

That is why it never ceases to amaze me when men flirt with me while I am in my mini-van. Seriously, would you even want to flirt with a guy that attempts to hit on a woman in a mini-van?

Even my niece has told me that every time she drives my van someone flirts with her or tries to pick her up. So, at least I know it's not just me.

On my way in to work today, I was sitting at a stop light and I started swatting at a baby bee that was buzzing around my van. I had my hand up, and was waving it around trying to swat the bee. The guy in the red truck next to me thought I was waving at him, so he smiled and waved back. And, when I rolled down the window to shoo out the bee, he rolled his window down, thinking that I was ready to chat.

I should have been flattered. I wasn't.

Clearly I drive a mini-van because I have children. LOTS of children. More children than the average car can hold. I do not drive a mini-van for looks or for gas mileage. (They are both ugly and gas guzzlers.)

I can't really fault the guy. From his perspective, I was a blonde babe waving at him. (I was wearing sunglasses that cleverly conceal my wrinkles and my fat ass is not visible from the window. So, clearly my best view.) But, come on . . . the mini-van should have been a dead giveaway.

I was tempted to flirt back. And teach him a lesson. But then I remembered a story my GirlFriend told me recently about her four-wheeled flirting experience.

In a nutshell, my Hottie GirlFriend was in her SUV at a stop light and she was giving "the smile" to the cute 20-something guy in the big truck next to her. He smiled back and they played flirty-face for the next 3 stop lights. At the fourth stop light, my Hottie GirlFriend looked over and noticed that the cute 20-something in the truck was um, stroking his, er, gearshaft. (Yeah, I hope you get the picture here because that is all the details I am gonna give.) And, um, at the next stop light, she could tell that the um, er gearshaft had been freshly oiled. Yeah. True story.

So naturally, that's all I was thinking today when the guy in the truck next to me was trying to be amorous. What was my reaction? I yelled "Hey Scooter, can you have one of your 6 brothers hand me a fresh PBR and my ciggarettes" to the empty back seat.

He peeled out as soon as the light turned green. And I peed my pants laughing all the way to work.