Stuff

I typically only blog about my children, but today I must tell you about STUFF. Yes, the all-inclusive, non-specific STUFF that makes us the crazy individuals that we are. Let me begin with the crazy individual I call my "husband." I love this man. He is my favorite. BUT, David has an unhealthy love for big vehicles, big tires, and big shiny wheels. I do not understand this. I do not REMOTELY understand this. Yet, I choose to tolerate this obsession.

Meet Samson. (Yes, his Chevy Suburban has a name.)
Samson consumes over half of my driveway. Samson sits almost 3 feet off the ground!














Here is my van.















I do not care about what I drive, other than the fact that my kids can climb in without my help, and that I have ample room for groceries and the occasional extra cousin passenger. It doesn't have to have big tires, tinted windows, or shiny wheels. This kind of stuff does not excite me.

Backing out of the garage in my van without hitting Samson is a challenge. I TRY to be careful. (I am a woman driver, you know) I occasionally nudge the passenger side mirror against the side wall of the garage in an attempt not to harm Samson.
This is what happened on nudge number 3.



















Now, I typically don't drive Samson, (you can only image what I would hit driving a bigger vehicle than my van.) but every Wednesday morning, I fire up the V6 engine, toss (yes, literally toss) my kids up in the suburban and roll out to 3 schools with a load of cousins aboard.
Here is, as I affectionately call it, the "Cousin Caravan."

Man, do I love the "stuff" inside this tricked-out and ridiculous suburban today!