After really sitting back and thinking about it, I realized I really, really, really didn't want a minivan. I was trying to be reasonable and practical, and making myself miserable in the process.
Sure, I'm being a total drama queen about it. I openly admit minivans are the most practical option for our family. They are wonderful vehicles, and the friends of mine who own them sing their praises.
I just can't do it though. I can't.
While my feelings on the matter are silly and irrational, they are real. I may be stupid for feeling miserable driving a car I hate (though it suits my lifestyle well), but I would feel that way.
So, we will not be getting a minivan. J is on a gag order to not mock me any more for my feelings about it. I think the mini nervous breakdown I had today spooked him enough to be a little afraid of the emotion a minivan invokes in me.
In other news, I do love my husband dearly. He is a wonderful man. But he must love the taste of his foot, because he does seem to be sticking his foot in his mouth.
Last night, he was showing our Acura to a prospective buyer. He found out she had attended the same high school as me. He told her that he was sure she was much younger than I was, so we probably didn't know each other. She told him that she'd graduated in 1992, which is TWO WHOLE YEARS older than me. Seriously!!!!!! He thought I was "much older" than someone older than me?!!!!!! And worse, he decided to report that particular conversation back to me. I could've gone on in blissful ignorance that my husband thought I was an ancient, decrepit hag if he hadn't thought to tell me. He claims he thought she was younger because her oldest child was around 3. Hmpf. He's not even good at covering for himself.