<p>Fourteen years. My wife and I were proud minivan owners for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fBYsbYyYmNs&list=RDfBYsbYyYmNs&start_radio=1">14 years</a> until this month. Once you have three children, practicality takes <a href="https://www.gq.com/story/buying-minivan-men-masculinity-gq-april-2012">immediate priority</a> over self-image, so I was never fundamentally against owning a minivan. I was never like, “Oh my God, they’ll take away my man card now!” I was too busy changing diapers and cleaning up barf for that kind of shit to matter. As my old friend and fellow dad Steve Czaban once told me, a minivan is the right tool for the job. It’s affordable, it’s spacious, and you won’t freak out if its paint job gets a scratch. A minivan is built for its owner to treat it like shit. And folks, my family and I did just that. We left metric tons of Goldfish crumbs in between the seat cushions. We got sunscreen stains on the plastic interior that wouldn’t come out. And we tossed all manner of dirty items—wet towels, pungent soccer cleats, sand-covered beach chairs, the dog—into the back. We used every part of the animal when we owned our minivan.</p>
<p>This spring, the van suddenly wasn’t the right tool for the job. Our youngest son, now 14, had grown so large that he audibly complained about not having enough legroom on <a href="https://defector.com/the-college-trip">our last road trip</a>. And he was barely ever riding in the van by that point. We have one kid already in college, and another not far off. With a partially empty nest, we now had fewer bodies to transport regularly, with less baggage accompanying them. My wife often drove the van all by her lonesome, which made no practical sense.</p>
<p>She and I always knew that we’d outgrow minivans eventually, both physically and aesthetically. We’d always talked about what we’d buy in the post-minivan phase of our marriage. It was a fun little daydream: “Maybe we’ll get a convertible hahahaha.” So the second she openly mused about trading in our Honda Odyssey for something new, the die was cast. Once my wife has an idea, it will become a reality. I learned to accept this fact well before we’d even gotten hitched. As such, the Odyssey’s days were now numbered. It was time to downsize, and perhaps upgrade. We were both cautiously excited.</p>