More tales of cool
rides and hot chicks

BELIEVE it or not, I
was once a hot young
chick in a cool ride.

There’s something about
having three kids and a
bunch of animals that
changes all thac. I mean,
when you're up to your eve-
balls in diapers and “baby
bortles, the importance of
your chickhood kind of
fades.

Like most mommics,
when the kids came along I
traded in my hot wheels for
a sensible minivan in which
I could safely transport my
Precious cargo, spewing and
squawking and scrapping,
from A to B.

Other than the annual
brake job T always need, my
van has been a stalwart
friend to me for many years
now.

Not a pretty thing at this
stage of the game, but then
who is?

But lately my kids have
been after me to get a new
car. They say my van stinks,
although I can’t smell any-
thing. Friends refuse to let
me drive when we go places
together.

And [ have to admit; I'm
a little tired of this old
mommy mobile too.

Even my husband, Mr.
Thrift, is on my case, “It’s
time for a new car,
Shannon,” he says.

“OK,” F say, “bur [ want
something sporty this time.
No more buses.”

Ina rare moment of con-
jugal agreement, he says,
“We never seem to have
everyone in the van at the
same time anymore anyway,
a smaller car is probably a
good idea.”

Buying a car is no fun,
but ic’s even less fun when
your trade-in has been dou-
bling as a doghouse for the
family hounds. My friend
Rob, who is in rhe business,
appraised my van. Even after
a thorough cleaning up, and
even though Rob is a sensi-
tive new aged man who real-
ly likes me, his words co me
were, “Shannon, your van is
in, what we call, rough
shape.”

The manager at the deal-
ership concurred.

“Have you had any acci-
dents in this vehicle Mrs.
Humphreys?” he asked sus-
Piciously.

“Well, there was the time
T was driving home from
Whistler with five kids in the
car, and the mother cat with
the litter of kittens we fos-
tered got diarrhea in her
kennel and it was a ¢ rible
mess all over the kitties.”

He was looking at me as
if I had lost it, but I contin-
ued anyway.

“We had co stop at a lake
by the highway and make an
assembly line. The Jittle girls
with me ceooed and p.u.ed
as they handed one shitty
kitty after another down the
line for me to swish around
in the lake. Naturally the
boys just: stood by the road
gagging,” I laughed,
remembering their horrified
faces.

“Mrs. Humphreys,” the
manager tried again. “I
mean vehicular oecic ents.”

“Well, no, but there was
the time when my old pup
Trigger got run over. And as

I was driving him to see my
vet, he died in the back sear,
right here.”

Tears Hooded into my
eyes at the thought of him,
God I loved that dog.

“Pm alking about an
accident with another car,”
he gently persisted.

“Oh, that. Well, once
one of my kids got into the
car when he was three and
accidentally threw it into
gear. It rolled down the dri-
veway and out onto the
street and scared the hell
out of us, Did I mention |
have three children?” |
asked him. “That's why |
drive this van.”

“Mrs. Humphreys, can
you tell me a little about the
mechanical history of your
van?”

“Oh ves, it's mechanical-
ly sound,” I tell him. “One
of my kids near choked to
death in this car. He swal-
fowed an ice cream cone and
couldn't breathe,” 1
explained

“My friend Danna
smacked hint on the back
and he spit it up. Fora
minute there we thought we
had lost him, poor little
guy.”

“Mrs. Humphreys, buy-

QU ALTTT AG,
PROLESSION AT

ing acar is supposed to be a
happy thing. Please stop
erving,” said tl

“Pm not erving
sobbed. “Pin just telling
you about my van.”

But there were a lot of
things 1] couldn't tell him.
About pulling the van over
to the side of the road to
hug a heartbroken kid after
she scored on her own team
in a soccer game.

bout the night Mr.
Thrift and [ escaped in the
old van to watch a sunset
and got a little carried away
with the romance of the
moment. About the family
outings where TP drove
evervone, kids and brothers
and parents even, and we
sang and told jokes and
laughed together to pass the
time.

“Mrs. Humphreys.” said
the manager. “Are vou ail
righ?”

“I'm pertectly fine,” I
Wubbered, blowing my nose
hard into the hankie he
handed me.

Later when | got into mv

new car to drive home Twas
still sniffling. Nota trace of
dog smell, nobody's favorite
old stuffed bear under the
seat.

Not one golf tee or
hockey sack or broken pen-
cil in the entire vehicle. It
was kind of nice. No, it was
really nice. [turned up the
tune

See, [ may not be 2 hot
young chick anymore, but
I've gota cool new ride,

And that’s almost as

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Dear Editor:

There is one wrner that
grates my nerves to ne end:
Shannon Humphreys.

Mrs. Humphrevs has no
respeet for her children. She
vomplains thar they don’t
respect her.

Why should they if she

ng about them like
are some unwanted dis-

understand that
teenagers can be hard to be
around, but to write about
them in such a hateful way is
totally rude. The (June 26)
column headlined “*Hang-
dog days of summer” got
me so mad. How she can
seem so nice and sweet but
have these nasty undertones?

Mrs) Humphreys made
three points about the “dis-
ruptive changes” to her
“otherwise peaceful rou
tine:?

IE. She has to buy more
wroceries. This is to be
expected.

Yes, teenagers cat lots,
bur Mrs. Humphreys is not
pleased, she hates grocery
shopping because she likes
to caste all the items that
they are handing out.

She said she “taste-rested
perogics tora full 45 > min-
utes until finally the sample
lady asked me to feave.”
Whoa, this is not) your
teenagers” fault, just because
they eat more is not a reason
ta blame them tor vour food
problems.

Ss
2. Mrs. Humph
plains about the
loads tripling.
To solve that problem tell
vour teens to do their own

laundry and then show them
how,

jaundry

Another favorite sub-
ject Mrs. Humphreys likes
ta complain about is the
housework.

Supposedly her “kitchen
is always a mess, and there
are piles of shoes and towels
and docks evervwhere you
turn” plus Mrs. Humphreys
finds she must “nag nag
nag” her children.

She puts to much stress
onto herself.

If her teens come in and
throw their shoes on the
floor tell them not to throw
their shoes down or next
time you will throw them
(the shoes) into the mi
of your back yard
an added bonus if it is rain-
ing)

If vou follow through
with this plan your teenagers
will learn very qui

She also writes about the
music which she finds is a

attitude irksome

“constant pounding noise.”
The remedy for this is either
to laugh about how your
parents used to react to your

sic or make a ti hed-
ule when your teens can play
their music loud and when
they have to keep it quiet
enough so that you can do
your suit.

Shannon Humphreys is
using the North Shore
News as an emotional
dumping around.

P she really wants to
solve her problems she
should see a counsellor.

Mrs. Humphreys, you
have to realiz that
teenagers are not always evil
and can actually be fun to be
around.

Sure they can be annoy-
ing but hey, so are you.

Oh, by the way, did I
mention thar ['m 18?

If someone feels [ don’t
have the experience to be
writing about teenagers then
they can talk with my meth-

er.
Huiga Schulte-Schrocer
HelgaSchulte-
Schroeer@msn.com

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