Dear Minivan,

So, you may be a rusty bucket of bolts now that rarely strays from your usual route to the train station and back, but don't think I don't remember you back in your hay day. You did the trusty job of carting us kids all around from soccer games to lacrosse tournaments, and you always managed to get us there safely in one piece. You carried us and our gaggles of friends to the beach, to the movies, to go ice skating. You took us wherever our hearts desired. And let's not forget to mention those comfortable bucket seats.

As years went by, and we grew older, we went from faithful minivan passengers to actually taking the seat behind the wheel. We learned how to navigate through the parking lot and eventually graduated to the big girl roads. You taught us how to drive, and you were our first set of wheels (excluding our bicycles).

You took us on countless adventures and vacations, listening to us cry, "Are we there yet?" from the back as you sped along to the destination, you were also the car who managed to haul all of our crap from home to college, and from college to home. You squeezed all of our possessions into your spacious cabin and shipped us off on yet another endeavor. You were such an underrated part of big moments in our family's life.

So, good old mini van, I'm here to thank you for all you've done. Your years of service to our family have not gone unnoticed. I know we joke around and call you names like the "swag wagon" or the "loser cruiser," but there is no other automobile that will allow me to channel my inner soccer mom so well as I pretend to get my imaginary children to practice on time. You really are a great set of wheels and an even greater part of the family. So, again, thank you.

Love always,
The kid from the back seat.