Look At Me I'm Driving A Lexus

I park at Loblaws and I'm driving a Lexus. Status symbol for those who care- for me its the cheapest way to torture myself. I shop and then lug my bags to the car only to realize it doesn't fit in. So I end up removing my daughters booster seat and holding it under my arm while I wrestle with the horribly built back seats. I angle them up with my other hand. The one that dropped the shopping bags on the floor. And caused the tomato paste to roll away. Unbroken maybe, but angry just the same. Then I toss the booster seat back and pile the bags in. They have no where to go, so they end up falling between the seats and try to make it out the door. I hold the bags and then give the door a slam. Then I pick up the tomato paste and put it in my front seat cup holder. Lexus, maybe. For me the car is everything I don't need. To me the car is a symbol of how things might look good- but feel horrible inside.

I hate the car. I Hate how it can't fit my car seats and I hate how it makes me complain. How I end up repeating the same conclusion to the hubby daily, "It just doesn't work. It's too small!" And he seems to look through me, hating me for what he thinks is my spoiled nature. It's a car. Its a bloody expensive car. But to me it's the thing that makes me sweat. It can't fit the smallest of strollers and it can't fit any shopping bags. It seems to want to remain empty of purchases. As if it knows it costs too much to begin with and now it shouldn't dare cost me a penny more. I hate it.

I hate it when my daughter is without a booster seat, because it doesn't fit. And I hate it when I'm on all fours trying to put her seat belt on for her. And I hate it the most, when I'm driving into the school parking lot and I look like I bought myself a Lexus. That I dreamed of a labeled car when all I want is four wheels, eight seats for car seats and a trunk.

The other week, I tried to pull the stroller out and it got tangled in a web of seat belts and i ended up crying. I wasn't even emotional, just so deeply frustrated.

But then again. Some people drive bicycles.
And then again. I know if anyone but me drove my three kids to school and stopped for groceries. They would hate Lexus just as much as me.

I want a van. I want a van, so I can look out my windows at every Lexus I see and laugh and the absurdity of it all.