School started last week, and my oldest transitioned to a new high school as a junior. Because we did months of research ahead of time, though, and because this was a transition she requested, it went perfectly.
FYI, by “transitioned,” I mean “didn’t transition at all,” and by “perfectly,” I mean “horribly” and “terribly” and “we’ve scrapped that plan and are trying something else entirely.”
So… you know. It’s been a rough couple of weeks, trying to figure out how to listen and be supportive and make wise decisions and guide without dominating. For the record, I am NOT good at guiding without dominating. I’m more of an I WILL DOMINATE THE HECK OUT OF THIS and FIX IT and IF EVERYONE JUST DOES WHAT I SAY, WE WILL ALL BE FINE mama, before I remember that I want to be a collaborative and compassionate mama, which kind of blows that whole domination thing to pieces. In short, it sucks.
Before school started, though, we went on a road trip. Abby, me, and her friends, Jenna and Camille. We went for two reasons:
1. We seriously needed a distraction from the back-to-school blues, because sitting home STRESSING OUT about starting a new school wasn’t going to be good for anyone. Not ANYONE.
We had a ridiculously great time, probably because no one brought any siblings, not even one of us barfed, and we were all equally committed to finding every single Starbucks in the Puget Sound of Washington. It was, in all ways, an ideal road trip and perfectly timed.
Now, listen. I don’t know what GMC was thinking, loaning me a car, and clearly they didn’t check with any of YOU before they did it because we are a WHOLE BUNCH of truth tellers around here, and I imagine, because you know me, you would’ve told them NO; DON’T DO IT, GMC! But they didn’t get ahold of you (WOOHOO!), and God knows I wasn’t going to fill them in on All the Things That Can Go Wrong With the Woolseys, so when they said, “Hey. Want to use a car? No writing or online review required!” I thought to myself, “Self? This is a chance to use a car that doesn’t smell like dead cheese. SAY YES.” So that’s what I did, and now here we are.
And can I be honest here? I just hate car campaigns. Because all of them show blissful country drives with smiling, quiet families gazing peacefully at idyllic scenery, and none of them show the kid who insists on putting his boogery finger over the line to piss off his brother, or the teenager slumping and sighing and eye-rolling at the nerve of you taking him on a family vacation, or the baby who gets dreadfully, terribly carsick at the first bend.
So, while driving the GMC Acadia was honestly rad – easy to drive, perfect control, great features, gorgeous interior, really comfortable, lots of room, blah, blah, blah – and I would buy one in a heartbeat if we could manage a new car payment (which, HAHAHA), I wish we could start a whole new way of advertising cars, ’cause let’s talk for a minute about what we really need.
Show me how easy it is to wipe vomit off your seats, and I am sold.
Show me a car with a feature that repels dead cheese smell, and I’ll swoon.
Show me a car that comes equipped with a mini-upholstery vacuum/shampooer for spot cleaning the chocolate milk spills and squashed goldfish crackers and random body fluids, and I’m in.
Here’s what you need to do, GMC: show a commercial of a family on a road trip.
You know, a REAL one.
Real family. Real road trip.
The infant with explosive diarrhea up his back.
The dad catching the toddler’s puke in his bare hands.
The teenager demonstrating with every expression and minute movement how annoying it is that she’s required to be in the presence of such disgusting excuses for human beings.
The mama with a mouth guard because she has to bite something really, really hard.
At least two kids competing in a
sing- scream-along to Frozen’s Let It Go.
And then show the mama driving: 1. using the Blind Spot Assist feature to change lanes, 2. using the GPS Direction Navigation to find the nearest stop because OH MY GOSH, VOMIT SMELL, 3. using the (seriously – you should make these features, GMC) Mini-Upholstery Cleaner and Dead Cheese Odor Eliminator at the rest area.
Then show the mama using the Reverse Camera to back up and get back on the road safely in the midst of all the distractions … and unapologetically starting the DVD player with wireless headphones for all the passengers to get ’em all zoned out post-puke-pocalypse.
And tag your campaign with this slogan: At Least the Car Was Easy.
At least the car was easy! Because every family who’s driven more than a block knows the family part won’t be easy, what with being made of humans and all. But we drive cars anyway, both for convenience and for vacation. We know it’s going to be hard, but it’s also FUN and deeply, horribly worthwhile because we’re making memories, damn it.
Ooh, ooh! There’s another car campaign for you! Making Memories, Damn It.
Someone should pay me for this stuff. This is marketing GOLD, I just know it.
Listen up, folks. This is your chance to talk to a major car manufacturer. And I know this isn’t what GMC intended when they loaned me a car. They intended to have me sell you on the Acadia. (It’s really great. Swearsies.) But I’m very bad at following even implied directions, and I think this is too good a chance to pass up. We have GMC’s ear. What do you want in a car? Like, for real.
Comment Below with Your Favorite Feature, please:
- Mini-Upholstery Cleaner. (Let’s pretend we would clean our cars if we had these!)
- Dead Cheese Odor Eliminator.
- Or another idea of your own.