The good people of Toyota lent us a Sienna. My son nicknamed it Redman. Then my husband informed me that I shouldn’t shout that name out in the parking lot because it has racist implications.
Sorry people of Medicine Hat. When I yelled, “Where the $#%@ is Redman?”, I was simply looking for our van in a parking lot that resembled Esher’s staircase painting.
The day before, we had picked up the van at the Toyota’s Calgary head office. It had only 42 kilometres on it, which is precisely my age. The van now has 1588 kms on it. I haven’t aged that much in the same time. Or maybe I have. I did, after all, drive fourteen hours across the prairies with my kids and my husband.
Aging substantially in a short time period is possible, especially considering the content of this tweet:
I’m loving the Toyota Sienna. It’s smarter than me. It won’t even let me slam my daughter’s fingers in the sliding door. Accidentally. Don’t go all call-family-services on me.
About 329 kms into our trip, I was looking for the ejection button. I nearly convinced my twins our minivan had one. Apparently that feature is unsafe, at least at highway speeds.
We ran over a gopher. It lived. That wily critter missed the tires. It was the story of my engagement all over again.
We stayed the night in Regina, which my son no longer calls Vagina.
We did not run over a gopher in Vagina.
We did, however, introduce a plethora of bugs to our windshield. I’m pretty sure our vacation is going much better than theirs.
Your turn: tell me about the last big drive you did.
You’re welcome to share misadventures. Or not.