Not your average suburban mom. I’m more your typical, normal, commonplace, everyday, garden-variety suburban mom. With a thesaurus.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

This Kid is Ruined

The other day I was behind this minivan on my way home from the pediatrician. (Hosanna's well-child visit went swimmingly, thank you for asking)  I know the picture is clearly blurry, but let me defend my mad photography skillz that were hindered by: waiting for a red light so I could take a picture, rain, and, due to the aforementioned precipitation, my windshield wipers swiping back and forth. Trying to take a picture was like attempting to enter a swinging double dutch jump rope.  You know, fraught with trepidation.  And notice how I blocked their license plate with my windshield wiper blade to preserve their anonymity?  Dumb luck Sheer awesomeness.


What impressed me about this minivan is how self-aware it is.  Look!  Dad's a golfer!  Mom does yoga!  Big sis plays soccer!  And little sister ... little sister has no identity whatsoever.  This poor kid is no one.  She has no discernable hobby, no determined characterization, no concrete hallmark ... she is obviously adrift in life, searching aimlessly for her bliss.

Without any of these things, she could be just any child.  She is the Jennifer of the 1980's, the Kayla of the 1990's.  She is a child of vanilla disposition.  Her individual selfhood is denied by the assumed collective traits of three year olds across suburbia.  She is doomed to the lackluster existence of the average citizen.  She will probably end up living in a McMansion, dude, probably with 2.5 kids and a minivan.  A Chrysler, if she lives in Michigan.  She is guaranteed a sepia life full of generic gift cards for Christmas the holidays.  There are no My Little Ponies for this girl.

And Parents!  How could you let this happen under your watch?  Don't you love your child?  Or were you just too busy playing golf and sweating at yoga?  (That one hurt, didn't it?)

I'm worried for her.  Her parents obviously don't care as they are flaunting her generic-ness on the rear window of their minivan.

So readers, this is where the village comes in.  We need to make sure every toddler and preschooler is defined by some external extra-curricular form of entertainment before they can notice how average they are.  This is America for goodness sake.

We can't let this happen on our watch.


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