Jimmy Conquers the Matrix

Last night for the first time, due to a complicated array of circumstances that rendered our Jeep Commander unavailable, I had to fit three passengers — my 6’1″ husband, my 14-year-old son who already wears size 12 shoes, and James in his Cadillac of a car seat — into my adorable and trusty Toyota Matrix. This arrangement rendered the Matrix into something of a clown car.

With Jimmy’s car seat installed behind the front passenger seat, any front-seat Matrix passenger must contort into a position ridiculously close to the dashboard. My husband folded himself into something of a fortune cookie, knees to his chest, as Junior filled up the portion of the back seat that wasn’t occupied by James and the giant car seat. I could feel the lanky teenage legs pressed up against the back of my seat as I drove. Quite literally, I had to put my purse in the trunk because there was no room for it in the front of the car. 

We only had to drive a few miles this way, but the experience further reinforced the fact that a minivan is in our near future, although we have written off the Scottish Routan salesman. After several e-mail exchanges, it is clear that he is either blatantly ignoring my requests or that he simply can’t read.

So even if we could get a decent deal out of him on the version of the Routan I want (which has been an experience akin to teaching my dog to talk), my husband and I agree that we don’t want our money to support his anti-American, misogynistic, possibly illiterate self anyhow. We may still end up with a Routan, but we won’t be buying it from that guy.

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