I often tell my husband that I could live in a van down by the river with him & the kids & be perfectly content. In all honesty though, our rivers are dried up & also I like indoor plumbing. But more to the point, I could live in *my* van down by the river.
I recently spent a week withou my beloved 'almost bigger on the inside-darker than TARDIS blue' office on wheels. My mobile mediation center. Often times my children's breakfast table & quite frequently center stage to my radio duets.
I have driven this particular vehicle since my 8 year old was little more than my 8 month old. I've driven home 2 newborns in this van, camped next to her multiple times, & sat comfortably under the hatch through many drive in movies. She is a family member. Maybe that's strange, but driving other cars at this point just feels wrong.
I only have loved a car as much once before. I drove an '86 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. I drove her until she died, then got a new engine & drove her until I could no longer afford her extensive repairs. My dad got me that car. I met my husband in that car, we brought our first child home in it. My "check engine" light was a staple on any trip, I'd put my hand over it & ask it politely to get me from point A to point B.
Maybe "luxuries" in life like this don't define who you are, but they sure do shape moments. And what are we, but moments over time.
I may have to retire my van at some point, but until then we will make all the memories we can. Drive in here we come!
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Be nice. When invoking your free speech right stop and think: I can say this, but should I? And remember Wazowski, I'm watching you... always watching.