Goodbye Sebring?

July 6, 2010 at 1:16 pm | Posted in Misc. | 3 Comments
Tags: , , , ,

It seems that everywhere Max and I go these days there is a minivan convention. We are frequently the only sedan in a parking lot full of mammoth family vehicles. And I’m beyond sad to admit that we may soon be joining the legion of humongous vehicles.

A couple weeks ago Mike and I decided to escape for the weekend up to his family’s house in the Adirondacks. With just the four of us (including the beagle), my poor Sebring was loaded. And I don’t mean we had a lot in the trunk. I mean the trunk was strategically stuffed to barely closing, Max’s pack-n-play had to ride in the backseat, and I had to have a bag or two shoved under my feet. And as I silently said a prayer of thanks to my mom’s neighbor who sold me an umbrella stroller for a dollar a couple weeks prior, thus enabling me to bring a stroller that takes up a fraction of the space of our Graco, I came to a realization so frightening I almost dropped the high chair: we are going to have to upgrade to a larger vehicle. With another little munchkin’s debut fast approaching, we are going to have to add another car seat, which means our backseat is about to become nonexistent. Then where will the dog and pack-n-play ride? I got a little teary.

I love my car. I bought it brand new right off the showroom about five weeks before I found out I was pregnant with Max. It still has that new-car smell thanks to fancy fart-resistant seats. Every time I hit a bump or pothole in my old Neon the seats would emit a rather foul odor. And one of our Neons didn’t even have a radio. Although it did have some nice rims, but that’s another story.

Mike and I were both pretty distraught when we sold our beloved Jeep last spring, and we still occasionally pine for it. We bought it with a blown motor, which meant we got a smoking deal if you don’t count the manual labor Mike spent putting in a new engine. But getting rid of my Sebring is different. Because we’re not following our original plan of selling while we can still break even like we did with the Jeep. If we really go through with this, it means we’re trading in our carefree days of hopping in the car and seeing where the road leads for trips to the library and Wegmans built around sleep schedules and mealtimes. Of course it’s inevitable that our lives — all of our lives — change, especially as we mature and settle down with spouses and children and pets. But I feel too old to be driving my mom’s minivan and way too young to purchase one for myself.


Create a free website or blog at
Entries and comments feeds.

%d bloggers like this: