(Not So) Cozy Coupes

Summer is in full swing here, which means that our days are crammed full of soggy pool towels, BBQs, a herd of extra kids running through the house, and requests for snacks every.five.minutes.

It’s busy, but not “when-is-school-over-I’m-so-tired-I-want-to-DIE” busy. Lots of fun & shenanigans!

But I want to address something I’ve noticed seems to come hand-in-hand with both warmer weather, and the parenting of younger children.

These F&%^*n Things.

 

The Cozy Coupe: a.k.a. “the cars that NEVER DIE”

You know these cars. You know them because they are the same.exact.cars we owned thirty years ago. You’d think that thirty years of technology would result in a slicker, cooler coupe, no?

Nope. Still a nasty, little Flintstone-foot ran dirt machine.

Not that everyone hates these cars like I do. In fact, some people seem to adore them… too much.

Case in point:

Here are a few of my issues with these little cars:

• They are everywhere. Every garage sale is selling one. Drive around on trash day, & you’re bound to find at least one waiting at the curb for the garbage truck. They multiply like rabbits.

 

• They are UGGGGLY. Red and yellow? That’s the best we can do?? Booooring. And they fade to a dull, dirt-streaked eyesore when left outside, which is where they belong. No matter how much a child wails to bring it indoors. Because they WILL.

 

• No matter how many you own, there will be one less car than children crying to ride one. I’m not sure what the appeal of these things is, but I can guarantee that if you’ve got one in your yard, you have two kids fighting over it.                                                                                                                                        And since they’re operated by tiny little feet, no child can tiptoe away fast enough from their competition.

See the protective hand over the door?? Try to carjack her, she’ll cut you.

…unless you’re THIS guy, who knocks his victim out & pedals off. Mr. Flinstone Fast & Furious. Beep, beep, BIATCH!

• They’re full of… gross stuff. One day in the rain, and you’re cozy little car is incubating a savory Zika- ‘skeeter-stew of grime. Don’t even get me started on when your little plants his/her bottom on that nasty, wet seat…

 

What purpose does that shelf serve besides breeding West Nile?

Speaking of germs, that brings me to my biggest gripe about these crappy coupes.

This grocery store s%^&.

Grocery Store Cozy Coupe: a.k.a.”rent-a-rotovirus-wreck”

Is there any parent that actually seeks out this cart?? I used to… when I was young & stupid. Ever steer one of these things? Better off hauling your groceries through the store in an Eskimo dog-sled.

Let us use the car cart, they said. We’ll behave & stay in it, they said.

THEY LIE.

You steer around the store, trying to avoid knocking down aisle endcaps. While you do, the kids are busy poking fingers in unsuspecting shoppers’ calves, & knocking down low-shelf products.

And forget the seat belts. Remember when they once had seat belts? Not so much.

You think your kid will be distracted enough by steering to forget that they’re not confined. And they do… for about 2 minutes.

And while you’re standing at the deli counter ordering turkey, they’re dive-bombing out the window & commando-rolling into the produce section.

But the germs… oh, the germs.

We know kids are gross. We know they carry all sorts of nasty little germs, shared from all sorts of personal nooks & crannies.

But somehow, the germs of the kid who last occupied that car terrify you far more than your own kids, amirite???

But God forbid your kid spies a vacant car cart (and they always DO). I usually veto it. BUT… recently, #5 sweet-talked me into using one.

#5: “Whoo! So excited!”

Me: “Ok… just don’t..touch anything. And if you do, don’t touch your nose. Or your mouth. “

The ride went ok, because #5 was too preoccupied with waving at customers from her own sweet ride. We reached the deli counter. No commando roll. The deli clerk offered a free slice of turkey. #5 was thrilled.

 But was less thrilled when I refused to hand it TO her to eat, morphing into the Howard Hughes of Stop & Shop.

Instead I hand-fed her the turkey.

Which she loved. And showed me just how much by smacking her hand to her lips & blowing a kiss.

Image Courtesy of www.giphy.com

#5 survived the germ-jalopy unscathed.

Nevertheless, my distaste for all Cozy Coupes remains, & I long for the day when our own crappy coupes can join the legion of others, which is right at the curb, then back into circulation. Forever… and ever… and ever.

© Copyright 2016 Six Pack Mom, All rights Reserved. Written For: SPM Writes