The Van

I think it’s time to clean out my van.

Last week we uncovered Spencer’s missing toothbrush from under the middle seat.

I’m not sure at all how it got there.

Yesterday, I decided to pop a piece of Melaleuca gum in my mouth. It had been lingering in the passenger seat for a few days in 90+degree heat. It is really good gum. I thought nothing of chewing it, despite its questionable storage for the last few days.

At first, the mushy meltedness kind of mixed with the spearmint to give me a little jolt of refreshing. I was pleasantly surprised.

Then about 5 minutes into the chewing, it started disintegrating in my mouth. It went from a tangible substance to … nothing. Nothing at all. What an odd feeling to be chewing something and then chewing nothing. It turned into gross, white liquidy gunk.

Thankfully, I had plenty of scraps of paper littering the van to spit my former gum into.

Anyway, let’s see, right now my van is home to various discarded and forgotten items. Besides stray gum pieces and shreds of paper, you’ll find:

  • crumbs of Goldfish crackers, graham crackers, cereal bars. I remember one time last year Chris asked me something along the lines of… “So, do you just give them big cups of Goldfish to eat in the car or what?” as he stared at the broken bits of little orange crackers all over the seats and floor. My response was, “Yes. Yes. That’s exactly what I do.” And your point is…? The last time I checked Chris has never fed, dressed, packed bags and lunches for 3, loaded, buckled, driven and deposited all 3 anywhere. Trust me, you do what you need to do. Be it spilled Goldfish or whatever.
  • books: children’s books, a phone book, a map book, a children’s Bible
  • a wooden kitchen spoon
  • umbrellas: adult-size and My Little Pony
  • a Strawberry Shortcake sleeping bag
  • jumper cables
  • banking receipts and kids’ artwork and junk mail
  • sucker sticks
  • hot pink winter boots
  • a teddy bear
  • a Bed, Bath, and Beyond coupon for 20% off
  • four car seats (I only have 3 kids)

I think my van is probably an accurate picture of how my brain feels most of the time: scattered, misplaced, always prepared, if not a little overwhelmed.

I have personally never fully grasped those people who truly love their vehicles. I don’t have a “dream car,” but I do lust after those vans with doors that open on both sides.

I appreciate my van. I love what it does for me. I love that I have it and it serves me well. But at the end of the day, it is a machine that gets me from Point A to Point B.

I’m really content with my ride as long as it accomplishes this simple task. And has enough room to take all of our junk, too.