Mom friends, countrymen, suburbanites, lend me your ears: I come to call your attention to a hidden U.S. epidemic-- More and more men are secretly wanting mini-vans.
But are these men- our husbands, fathers, and businessmen- caravaning in suited droves to the local Dodge dealership? No. No, they are not. Instead, they are trying to seduce us, their women, into the test driver's seat of Siennas and Odysseys. They are luring us into believing that we need a minivan to properly fulfill our suburban destiny. They casually drop amenities like "extra cabin space" and the "convenience of sliding doors" into any and all auto-related conversations. And be sure that every time we bitch and moan about some trivial problem with our sensible mid-sized sedans, these men latch on, minivan wheels spinning in their heads.
"But why are all these men suddenly wanting minivans?" you may ask. I have no idea. But alas, it seems that the days of domestic bickering over mid-life crises and sporty convertibles are soon to be long gone. And as they go, so too go oversized pick-up trucks and chest hair. It's simply un-American.
What I do know, however, is why these men are trying to fulfill their minivan fantasies vicariously through us, their unsuspecting female companions. It is simple: Pride. They are ashamed to admit that inner longing and drive, that desire for extended drive-train and sensibility. We, ladies, are the cover. This way, they can play the "I had to appease the wife" card over the water cooler as their masculine friends snicker at the new purchase. But be sure when it is time for the next family outing, your man will "offer" to take the wheel so you can relax. He can always nod to you if another man driver casts him a condescending look at a traffic light.
I ask you this: If our men are too good to be seen driving mini-vans, aren't we? I submit to you that we are. Beware the closeted minivan wanter. The next time hubby casually leaves out a copy of Motor Trends opened to the latest review of the Chrysler Town & Country, close it, or better yet, cover it with Cosmo. The next time he looks at you with that baby-making gleam in his eye, ask yourself exactly where he plans to have you put the extra car seat. Check out this gem from a popular minivan manufacturer's website:
"Sure, function led you to Grand Caravan, but when you change from errand clothes to evening clothes, it's nice to navigate shiny chrome and a crosshair grille up to the valet with pride."
Who wrote this? A man did.
Resist, reach within, and seek out that sexy inner you- the one before salaried jobs and mortgages, when the souvenir from a hot date was a hangover, not a balloon for the kid. What will it be- MILF or mom jeans?
Stand for what you believe in, or else go ahead and proudly don those jeans in all their high-waisted glory.
I say we leave the minivans to caterers and home-schoolers where they belong. It's a little thing called dignity. It's time to rise up and fight for womankind- and for manhood.