I'm not feeling it tonight. It's not that I don't have anything to say. It's not that I don't love my microvan (if that's a term) or this blog, for that matter. I'm just not sure I have anything to say on this subject that anyone would want to read. I have felt this way other nights this month, but some how got away without saying (or writing) it. I guess once out of 23 posts ain't bad.
Anyway, we have a Mazda5. It is the car I drive. We got it because it did for us what a minivan would do for us without being a minivan. Cause, well, I really didn't want to have my second child, turn 30 and buy a minivan all in one year. Plus, I can still pretend it's sporty. zoom zoom.
Here's a review. If you want one, buy one.
And, here's a peak at the inside of my van, er, I mean my sleek and sassy microvanesque car:
- a squashed box of tissues
- a nearly finished caffeinated beverage from last week
- multiple hand sanitizers tucked into strategic locations (mostly because I forgot where I hid the previous ones)
- a bag of clothes or other baby item that belongs to someone else and I have yet to return
- not my dashboard Jesus (He's in the kitchen...did I need to capitalize that?)
- an umbrella
- an umbrella stroller
- a double stroller
- CD's I never get to listen to because our toddler has gotten jiggy with age appropriate music
- at least 12 lost Cheerios and 9 lost Goldfish
- a pair of my husband's shoes (ask him)
Can I get an amen?!?