And across from them, you'll find me, holding onto my steering wheel for dear life while screaming, "Put down the phone, or the latte, but just DRIVE! If you don't know how to drive it, DON'T BUY IT! FERCRYINOUTLOUD"

Sorry. Lots of open space around these parts, plus living in the suburbs means lots of soccer mommies in vehicles way, way, way too big for them.

I'm much more afraid of schoolbus drivers.

They're mean

I am a suburban mother myself, and I curse the mother-with-a-cellphone mightily.

(I avoid driving. When I do drive, I drive a Toyota Scion xB, which is tall, but wee. And I never, ever, talk on the phone when driving. Except when my son calls me, and then I pull over ASAP.)

It's unfortunate that Narrator doesn't exist. I was trapped in Chicago and spent NYE in a hotel all by myself with room service and Saw III.

For the record... I offered to rescue you from the airport. (I couldn't provide room service or Saw III though)

(I avoid driving. When I do drive, I drive a Toyota Scion xB, which is tall, but wee. And I never, ever, talk on the phone when driving. Except when my son calls me, and then I pull over ASAP.)

No rear storage space to speak of, either. Failed utterly at the jogging stroller test, I fear. It's tall, wee, and cute. Childless, I think I'd be a little in love.

Don't look at me. I wanted a Forester, but life conspired to give me an Odyssey. I actually drive a mommyvan.

Yup. I'm a minivan driver.

But I have tons of musical gear in the back, not toddlers. Unless you count the Biscuit, who gets a bench seat to himself.

raises hand

I have a bright blue Windstar. Her name is Violet.

I've always wanted to name my car. I have never been able to think of an appropriate name for her.

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It's a Mitsubishi Lancer, Tamara? Then clearly, her name is Mitzi (unless you just used 'her' by default. If it drives like a boy, clearly, he's Lance).