Yup, a mini-van. A 1992 Dodge Caravan. It's the kind of car we've wanted for a few years now, once we realized that two good sized kids, their mom and a 6'1" man don't fit well into a Honda Civic hatchback (I loved that car) or a Pontiac Sunfire (which was dying a slow expensive death).
This car definitely seals the deal that yes, we're parents. If we had any pretentions toward being hip, they're gone. I'm thinking it needs a name. I don't generally name objects, but "the van" isn't working for me. I'm trying to come up with an acronym to describe our transition to becoming a family with a mini-van, but nothing has come to me yet.
I never had any designs on a fancy SUV or some other heavily marketed automobile for reluctant van buyers. They're expensive and environmentally unsound and for an urban family who bike/transit to work, and can walk to everything we need, an SUV is completely unnecessary. And it's so big. No squooshed feet, no bodily contortions to do up child-seat harnesses, no feeling like we're going to be run over by the Hummer beside us (I must say, those are the dumbest "cars" in existence). This is suits us fine for trips to the cottage, hockey rink, IKEA, and of course far flung LYS's.
Not that I'll be buying a lot of yarn in the next little while. Besides, I'm still excavating the stash from the boxes in the basement and finding stuff I forgot about. If I leave it long enough the stash will feel brand new again.