Don’t go disrespectin’

We live in sunny Florida now and I have to say…it becomes my minivan.  If you thought she looked hot cruising the streets of St. Louis, you should see her down here.

HAWT!

But there’s a problem.  “What problem?” you might ask.  “What could possibly be bothering you in sunny Florida?”  I’m so glad you asked! The problem, you see, is that is appears her hotness does not garner the proper respect down in this beach town.

GASP!

I know, right?!  How could it be? At first I thought that maybe it was Florida.  Maybe FLORIDA didn’t understand the royalty of the minivan.  But then I realized that I’m living at the beach right now…where a bunch of teenagers roam free at a time in life when most of them are pretty sure they know everything about everything.  You know…teenagers.

So anyway, as I cruise down the highway between here and Tampa, the ocean spread on either side, I have to tell you – my van?  She sings.  The ocean becomes her. BUT every time I drive that strip of highway, despite the fact that we’re zipping along a little above the speed limit (ahem…we’re at the beach – don’t judge) inevitably, some teenage boy in his sports car drives right up on my tail.  One even flashed his lights at me.

Flashed his lights.

They then buzz past me, their tatooed arms hanging out the open windows, leaving my poor little van quaking in their base filled, disrespectin’ dust.  But not to worry.  Nope…not to worry a bit.  Because I know something those little boys don’t know…

You see, I know that there’s a good possibility that 15 years from now, most of those boys are going to be haulin’ down the highway in a sleek black minivan filled with young ones.  I know that someday most of them are going to trade their unintelligible rap music for Kidz Bop and their ears will bleed as do mine.

I know that someday, they’re going to be driving down the road and some hot shot is going to whip around them, laughing at the power he thinks he wields in the tiny little sports car that he got from mommy and daddy.  And they’ll mutter under their breath something to the effect of “Jackass,” which their oldest child with the eagle ears will hear and shout, “What’d you say?” over the screeching sounds of kids singing the latest and greatest hits and they’ll shrug and yell back, “I said he’s got no class!”

I know this.

And so I drive in confidence down my beach highway.  In my sleek black van…with scratches down the side from the numerous times small children have run into her with their bikes.

*sigh* No matter what I do, driving a minivan is never gonna be cool…is it?