Smithfield, UT | Posted August 7, 2017
My wife loved mini-vans, and I hated em. We drove the same mini-van for over ten years, and she refused to give it up, giving excuses like "It's so practical", "It fits all the kids", "It has a DVD player" and all the other excuses given by members of the mini-van cult. At one point it was even suggested that I sell my truck and purchase a second mini-van. Lord Almighty help me, because I actually considered it. The mind-control was beginning to influence me as well.
Finally after years of suffering at the hands of Chrysler, my salvation arrived. The snow in Cache valley had become too much for my wife's beloved mini-van, and she finally relented. The mini-van was sold, and the suburban purchased. Within the first week, I knew my life would be forever changed. My wife had transformed. Instead of fearing snow she relished in it, going out of her way to find roads that had not been plowed to blaze her own trail. Instead of trips to the quilted bear we were planning real adventures, with real bears. The wilderness was open to us, and our children soon forgot about the DVD player and their TinkerBell DVD's. Instead their tiny minds were stimulated by waves of water and mud thrown up the sides of our MAV (Mormon Assault Vehicle) as mom had found a new route to dance class that didn't involve traffic. Suddenly a Zombie apocalypse was survivable.
My wife had a new found pride in vehicle maintenance. My wife's vehicle was.... clean. In the mini-van I had no idea what color the original upholstery was or what the floor looked like sans Cheerios, goldfish and crayons. The suburban was constantly being cleaned.
My wife had become transformed. No longer were we slaves to oppressive power of the mini-van, but we had found freedom in four-wheel-drive and a V8 engine.
The euphoria of suburbanism spread and our neighbors, close family and even people we didn't like began to convert to the Utopia that is 4-wheel drive. Soon however, my wife decided that her love of Suburbans had reached another echelon of affection that could not be fulfilled by our 1999 Beast. She wanted an upgrade, and soon had located yet another suburban, a newer suburban, a more powerful suburban. And so the story continues. As we forge across even more terrain and our adventures are told and retold over campfires for generations, we reluctantly have chosen to part with the Suburban that changed all our lives.. for the better. Fare thee well old friend, and may you bless yet another family, and help them see the err of their ways. Show a mother the joy of destroying a snow drift, the children to realize there are windows in cars, and help a father gain back his manhood,