Jan 31, 2012

The Van est Morte

Here we are in the other family car.


Notice the boys rubbing elbows.


Tsega has tears. He usually does in the car. Can you guess why?


I know what he's thinking. Sabatoogie.



The minivan died. It had been ours since we became a family. It was kind of a twisted symbol of our life in Kansas. The boys used to spit milk all over the back seat. I remember milk streaks all over the inside and a very funky smell. Oh yeah, we locked a cat inside by accident once or twice for a long time (cat OK). My dad refused to drive in it and the smell or pet hair made my mom sick once. I feel like my America Dream is going up in smoke. We went from minivans, rural life and working on our own house to...

What?

Squishy! Each of my little triplets has no idea about personal space and each learned how to talk really loud or else let the stimulation swallow his voice. I picture the boys screaming at their friends in college, "HEY!! DUDE!!!!! HEY DUDE!!!!!????? YOU GOTTA PENCIL!!!??? We're really loud on the metro too. It's like they still share a womb. They just can't keep their adorable little hands off each other or be quiet for just a little while longer...

2 comments:

Paula said...

When I was a kid and all five of us siblings were squashed into the family car, we developed the saying "sister skin burns". I'm just going to guess it's the same for brother skin when too much close contact is enforced. And it's a known fact that if you don't get your point across at a loud volume, you need to crank it up even louder. Everyone knows that.

Anonymous said...

oh my goodness, I had never thought that it must be a triplet thing that my kids constantly just try to talk over the other 2...but that makes so much sense! and even though mine are b/b/g they also are always touching each other etc. isn't the triplet connection amazing!

Glad you are blogging a bit again :-)
A

(the trip mom from MommaKath)