Oh my sweet suburban.
I love that you are big.
I love that you are red.
I love that you are 18 years old but don't look a day over 10...you make me look young too.
I love that you are named Rosie.
I love that people can see you from a mile away and know that we are coming.
I love that when I pull up to a stop sign I laugh at small cars and think about what you could do to them.
I love that I feel like a truck driver when I put the emergency break on with my foot really hard.
I love that small children jump when I start you up and you say vrrrooom really loud.
But Rosie we have a problem...you have two back seats and I have two boys...that is just an invitation for bad things to happen.
Rosie, that second back seat is hard to get to...so you need to tell me when Alex tears up a styrofoam cup for no reason at all and I need to know where the other half of the Happy Meal went.
And Rosie, Dr. Pepper is not our friend.
I know that you love me Rosie and I know that you will help me...
Whew, I feel better now that it is out in the open.