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About Magnificence in the Mundane

Bringing humor to the many challenges of parenting, driving a gigantic SUV full of smelly boys and their friends, letting go of the idea of perfection and tackling middle age all serve as my inspiration. We all have common experiences, I just share my take on the absurdity of every... Read more

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Summer 2017: Car Conversations

I, like many mothers I know, spend a large portion of every day in my car. I often wonder what my big, old Yukon would say if it could talk. We spend a lot of time together, so it knows me pretty well. As I was waiting for smelly people to get in the car today after a muddy football practice, I thought for sure I could read my car’s mind.

Thus this list was born…

–I think my car would agree that the music selection is better when I am in the car alone. Once my kids start playing DJ and syncing their play lists, the tone changes significantly. And I don’t feel hip or cool, I just feel old.

–I am sure my car would tell me that I should really get to know all those buttons and gadgets. It must be very frustrating to watch me fumble around trying to figure out the electronics and knobs. My car and husband have this frustration in common.

–My poor car would beg me to wash it more and buy one of those Christmas trees for God’s sake. Sports pick-ups and dusty fields take their toll on the old girl (the car, not me)

–I bet it does not go unnoticed that sometimes I drive in the car in complete silence. No companion, no phone and no radio–just to find some peace. And other times, I bang the steering wheel and scream because I am finally alone to vent my frustration where my kids can’t hear me.

–I think my car is proud of me for not exhibiting crazy, road rage but would advise me to use my horn more. I mean, it is there for a reason and my poor car doesn’t want to be a pushover. The giant Baby Huey of the highway.

–My car rejoices that I do not let the kids practice driving in this vehicle. The truth is it too large and the back-up camera and warning lights would have to be covered up for the test anyway. I am sure my poor Yukon fears for its life if the kids drive her.

–I know my car is pissed that everyone door dings us in parking lots. She wishes for super powers like the car in the movie “Christine” to chase offenders through the parking lot and invoke terror. Or maybe I could just park better (see paragraph 3 above) using the tools it gives me.

–My car wonders why no one watches movies on the built-in DVD player any more. I think she too misses those days when the kids would ponder their selection for hours and giggle from the backseat. Now everyone is in their own world with headphones on that continually need to be turned down.

–Mostly, I think my car gets that I am thankful that I can rely on it to keep us safe. Of course, that’s because most of the safety features are built-in and require no activation from me. Otherwise, we would be sunk. It is content to provide a ton of steel between my family and danger.

And that makes me more grateful than words can say.

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About Maureen Stiles

Maureen is the author of the blog Magnificence in the Mundane. You can read her monthly column at The Town Courier.


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