|If you have to advertise....|
The recent influx of the Ford Flex in my neighborhood is crazy. Since I got one in March, I think every other minivan-ditching family has bought one, too. There is even another one exactly like mine (red with white top) at Miss Noteworthy's middle school.
Wouldn't it be hilarious (and possibly permanently scarring) if she wasn't paying attention and hopped in with the wrong mom? I'm not sure if that would result in laughter or tears on Miss Noteworthy's part, but I know the other mom and I would be trying not to pee in our driver's seats.
As I drive carpool, I keep landing behind the same blue Flex with a silver top. It's a nice car, but it's the personalized Dallas Cowboys license plate that grabs my attention. I wish I had a picture of this particular plate to show you, but the ever present "cherries and berries" in my little city frown on the use of cellular apparatus in school zones. To the tune of nearly $300. And there a ticket given at almost every pickup. With Christmas right around the corner, I better mind my p's and q's. Santa doesn't want to have to disappoint the kididdles. No one has ever asked for a ticket instead of an iPod...
I'm not even kidding. It really says that.
Lady, do I need to tell you that if you have to pay the state extra money every year to tell people about your swagger that you ain't gots no swagger at all?
Nothing even remotely resembling swagger in there.
Swagless is what is coming to mind.
Your middle school child most likely wants to disown you now, too. More than before.
While you may indeed be entirely swagfree, I am sure you do have a closet full of blinged out Dallas Cowboys shirts. (The horror. Mommy, make it stop. Please.)