You can call me on the (juice-stained) carpet for sweeping generalizations, but it’s been my experience that in your typical suburban household where each parent has a car, Mom’s car will be the messier of the two. Throw a pet like my Daisy (right, riding shotgun) into the mix, and disorder and debris are your destiny.
I don’t think I’m off base here. Just a cursory scan of cyberspace found plenty of mothers lamenting the woeful state of their minivans. One even had a contest that sought out the most unkempt car.
If only I had known. If I’d submitted a pic of my own slovenly sedan, I guarantee I coulda been a contender. That is, if I could find my camera…
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His:
Sleek
Spotless
Toy-less
Tot-less
Leather
Shiny
Never whiny
Quiet
Yell-less
Calm
Smell-less
Hers:
Hatch-backed
Crayon-attacked
Vinyl cracked
Baby-yakked
Not compact
Toy-stacked
Ransacked
Mud-tracked
Never intact
Brat-packed
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©2009 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz
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(note: this post has been updated and re-blogged from its initial appearance more than a year ago.)
