Today I read an article about how men decide to buy a car. According to the article, men choose vehicles in similar ways they choose a wife. (I’m just telling you what it said.) There’s a lot that goes on in the thought process, and apparently, it’s the subject of much study. Often, men will come in and admire an expensive convertible, but in the end, they walk out with the keys to a dependable sedan. I’m not saying there’s a correlation between a Chevy and a dependable wife, but I thought I’d think through the implications here.

When we married, my husband drove a new model red Honda CRX. It was small, sporty, and compact–exactly what I used to be, ahem. That car ran smoothly. It was fun to handle, drove a little fast, and didn’t have any issues. It was a fun little car, I recall. I remember those days.

Not long after we married, children began arriving, and the two-seater little sport car had to be traded in. Greg downgraded to my old red VW 4-door. (At least it was a stick, so all wasn’t lost.) It was fiery red, practical, and low-maintenance, but that’s about all it had going for it. I think the analogy is breaking down.

Six children later, and we drive a large van with lots of cargo space. It’s heavy on the tail-end. It’s pale, err, I mean, white, and it doesn’t get too many miles to the gallon. The cool thing about this van, though, is that it has a ton of bells and whistles inside. You’d never suspect it from the outside. When robbers look for a car to break into, they pass right on by ours. But there are DVDs, GPSs, and all kinds of acronyms hiding inside. It even has a vacuum, reading lights, and snacks stored up its sleeve. It’s built for the long haul even if she isn’t so pretty.

We have a second vehicle at the moment, too. The van Greg drives to work is the same age as our marriage. It’s reliable but pretty old. It’s getting about that time to trade it in, but I hope he keeps her till she dies. It’s hard to find a good car, you know.