Champagne wishes and caviar dreams….

Writing will have to wait today. We are trading in our mini-van.

I hold firm on my belief that for function and practicality, for any family larger than four, the mini-van is the way to go, regardless of whether you play soccer.

I have been boisterous in my argument that if you are going to resort to driving a mini-van, you should drive the cheapest one on the lot and not feel even a little strange about choosing to do so.

The Honda Odyssey and the Toyota Sienna win all of the coveted mini-van awards year after year and for thousands of dollars more than the Dodge Caravan, you could own one and look like a superstar? No. You still look like someone driving a mini-van. It’s not a Mercedes, a Lexus or a BMW, it’s a mini-van so why not admit as much and save your money for something fantastic.

I have been driving a silver mini-van for the past couple of years. I grew up in a house where you drove your family vehicle until there were at least forty-nine million miles on the odometer or, it stopped driving altogether and was abandoned, whichever came first.

My husband is of the mind-set, the minute a vehicle’s warranty expires, it’s time to replace it. I’m not used to this line of thinking but am totally on board.

So, today, we will be trading in our “platinum” mini-van for a “champagne” mini-van. Don’t let the colour names fool you. Think cheap champagne or barely beige.

What makes our mini-van great is that it’s a “Grand” caravan.

What makes it grand?

When a friend asks if they can borrow your vehicle to move a chair that won’t fit in their luxury vehicle, you respond, “sure,” and they reply, “grand.”

Last week, this 175 year old snapping turtle made its way across our lawn and with the entire driveway open for touring, he (or she) chose instead to walk under my van, rest for almost an hour and pose for a few pictures. I can no longer buckle in any of the children with open toed shoes for fear my foot will be severed at the ankle by an angry snapper that I neglected to check for under the tire. 


Farewell to the silver bullet…welcome champagne wishes and caviar dreams.

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