Minivans Are Sexy

The car in the picture is mine. A ’96 Mustang, dual exhaust, rear spoiler, glass packs, super-charger gauges…a man’s car. It’s sleek, strong, loud, intimidating, inviting. Supposedly, it’s even sexy. I’m desperately trying to sell it so I can buy a minivan.
Now there is a man’s car. A car that can hold two car seats, a double stroller, a playpen, luggage to visit the in-laws, groceries, and even has a place to change diapers and make sandwiches. A man’s car. It exudes confidence, security, strength, practicality, and a lot of other things that drive women crazy with desire. Women like my wife who couldn’t keep her hands off me if I drove a minivan, but could care less that I own a two door fuel consumption machine. Yes, minivans are very, very sexy. I used to own one, back in the day, when I was just a young, newly married, carefree ball of testosterone. Then I got rid of it and a friend gave me this Mustang. I’ve had it for about a year and every time I pass a minivan I get envious. Just this morning on my way to class I roared past a minivan in an intersection and almost got whiplash looking out the window and thinking to myself, “Now that is one sexy car.”