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I Might Want a Mini-Van


“All the world is a stage and the men and women merely players”

            Several of my high-school students sat around as we brainstormed ways to move large pieces of lumber and I decided who to take with me on a venue visit.
            “I used to think people who wanted mini-vans were old,” I told my students. “Now I want one.”
One girl, curly-haired and lively looked at me with a, “If you want a mini-van, then you are old expression.”
 I paused. Thinking about arguments as to why I was still a cool, young teacher: a bigger car would allow me to take them all venue viewing; I might want to pick people up from the airport; and a road trip to California must happen. But regardless of the litany of thoughts processing through my mind, it was true. I’d arrived into my thirties, about twice the age and life experience of my students. 

It’s no wonder they think I’m old.
           
**
My little girl is two—and every day more opinions, thoughts, and desires pour in a semi-articulate stream from her tiny mouth. She jumps over cracks in the sidewalk, tucks her dolls or stuffed animals into bed, and daily tries to enforce her will on her big people—mama not papa should buckle her into the car, she’s “got it” when it comes to getting a fresh diaper to change into. And oh! The look of pride, when she points out a letter of the alphabet (mostly incorrect), dances around the living room, or tries to do push-ups. We are the audience of her little stage.

Her and I stand in two very different life places.

Not as often now, my husband and I will look at each other and ask, “Are we really grown-up? Do we really have a kid?”

Yes, somewhere, we crossed some indefinite line that placed us in the next act. But it is not a lesser scene, because it is a later scene. The sparkle of a clean kitchen and the flowers arranged on the table can be as wonderful as Felicity discovering she can lay on her tummy in the bathtub and “go on ehvutures” with mama or papa.

I wouldn’t trade it. The scene I play in now is precious.

So yes, I do want a mini-van. After all, it’s a truth universally acknowledged that two car-seats in my sweet Nissan Sentra, along with groceries or diaper bags is a squeeze of the non-romantic variety.


*She carried this basket on her own and was happy to pose on her stage.

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