It's official. Momvan has decided to move on to greener pastures which, for momvans is pretty much being sold for your weight and scrapped for parts...kinda like being a mom, actually. Unless you can find some awesome sugar-daddy who wants to buy the parts to put on you, but you have to have a prettier face than momvan for that stuff, so she's the part-giver, not the part-getter.
Now, I have to find something that fits seven people and costs less than twenty dollars, and then get financing for the twenty dollars over just a year or so...until I can get a frickin job. It's all good, yo. I found a van today on the side of the road for just over twenty dollars. I wonder if they would come down a little? It said "Runs and Drives good" on the window, which, judging from the grammar, means it would be the Best Van Ever. The other window claimed "CLASSIC", and who doesn't want a classic van for just over twenty bucks? I know I do, and not just because I wanna' rename my kids to Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, Velma, Scooby, and the last one would just be Dooby-Doo. And I'm sure that the cloud of smoke that was hanging around it would help the kids chill in the car instead of trying to kill each other. I think we really can't go wrong with the Mystery Machine.
And it's not the real Mystery Machine, guys, so don't go all I wanna come over and get your car's autograph on me, ok? Because my Mystery Machine is white, and needs to be painted, and is also not a cartoon. But if you come over anyway, bring beer and something we can smoke in the van. Also some Scooby Snacks, and by Scooby Snacks I mean boneless buffalo wings. And a babysitter.
It's already a fiasco to pick the kids up from school...the teachers all know the momvan, and I'm the only one picking up six kids from one school, so I am thinking it would just give the kids some extra thing to talk about when they're grown up and in therapy if I bought a Mystery Machine and I've pretty much just sold myself the van as I was writing this post. I hope it's still there in the morning.
