Mrs. Dykowski... drives a minivan

Y’all it’s happened, and I never thought it would. 

I’m in love ... with my minivan. 

I thought you would have to drag me kicking and screaming into a white whale like Destiny, my pre-owned Chrysler Pacifica. 

She’s named for a cartoon whale in “Finding Dory,” one of Darci’s favorite movies. Also, because I feel like destiny has brought us together. 

I’m kidding — well, kind of. 

I’m sure you’ve heard about the freak accident that ended the life of my preivous mom-car, Betty. 

She got booped right into the front of the Citizen building.

So, she had to be replaced. 

I did a spit-take when my father-in-law suggested a minivan. 

After all, I’m not even 30. I still occasionally like to put on my sunglasses and listen to NSYNC like I’m in 10th grade. 

Uh oh, I think that dates me.  

Out of respect for my elders, though, I looked at it online. 

It looked ugly — but not that ugly. 

Then I saw the features. 

Oh, does it have features. 

There are about 25 ways to open Destiny’s doors. It has rear climate control that you can control from the front or the back. 

It has more storage than a hoarder’s dream closet, and the girls’ carseats just snapped right in. 

As we drove it off the lot, I made a sweet little bonus discovery, a fold out mirror in the ceiling that shows the entire back seat. No more wondering if Darci is asleep or plotting mischief when the constant concert of Disney princess mashups falls silent.

I can wipe the leather seats clean in a second, no scrubbing required. Then I can pat them tenderly and thank them for making my life so easy.

Those same seats disappear into the floor in two slick moves. 

I could haul a trio of Hereford calves in the back of Destiny, but I hear they’re terrible backseat drivers. 

I suppose I’ll stick with just hauling my duo of girls and their plethora of stuff. 

The smaller the girl, it seems, the more stuff she needs. 

Like any good, spoiling G-pa, my father-in-law is anxious to put a DVD player in it for them.

Those poor children only have as many toys and gadgets as Tom Hanks in “Big,” thanks to their grandparents.  

Still, I might just allow it. 

We’re all getting used to riding in luxury. 

Did I mention that it drives smoother than a low-calorie butter substitute? 

Y’all I love this big, giant, ugly minivan almost as much as I hate the oxford comma — that’s a lot.

Destiny and I plan to travel this majestic state together. Or at least to Walmart pretty often. 

If gas prices don’t go too high, I might even venture a momcation all the way to mom-paradise, that is, Target, on a hot day. 

Who knows what lies in Destiny’s destiny. 

I just hope she steers clear of our office building. 

Sarah Dykowski is the wife of Publisher Scott Dykowski. She can be reached at

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