A few months ago, my Dazzling Husband brought home a new-to-us minivan. If you had told me 10 years ago that I would love owning a grocery-getter this much, I would have mocked you for such foolishness. But now, friends, let me share with you just why I was so wrong in youth and enumerate the awesomeness that comes with joining the Minivan Mafia.

Now, we've already established in previous installments that I drove my mom's maroon '89 Pontiac Bonneville in high school—not exactly a pimp sled. So, I don’t have a history of driving precision instruments of speed and aerodynamics. And I'm a mom with messy kids. It should come as no surprise, then, that I got a family vehicle instead of joining the waiting list for the Mercedes F125 with those DeLoreanesque gull-wing doors. But that’s just the beginning …

The ride is so luxurious, I sometimes mistake it for a cruise liner.  I often expect to find a washcloth folded to look like an animal on my seat. Sadly, the cabin steward was not available for our model.

I'm not the only one who loves her van. In chatting with friends, I've been privy to some of the other unexpected perks. Take, for instance, my friend, Betty. She finds long drives boring, so whenever she and her Dashing Husband go on a road trip, she comes down with a headache or a case of carsickness and gets to take a nap, fully horizontal, in the backseat. And with all that space between the kids, he never has to hear the incessant "he's on my side" arguments.

My other friend, Betty, had convinced her then-boyfriend that she was the outdoorsy type, despite her irrational fear of fresh air. She had all kinds of unique excuses to avoid camping trips until they finally got married and bought a van. Now she happily packs everyone up for a Great Adventure in the Woods. As soon as everyone is asleep, she sneaks back into the van and catches up on her DVD rentals. Naturally, she is also first to rise and credits "the best night’s sleep" for her morning pep.

Now, Betty was once stuck in some awful traffic with her little ones. The bladder situation was reaching critical levels, and her working-on-potty-training son just couldn't hold it any longer. Seizing the opportunity to throw it in park and tend to her offspring's crisis, she climbed into the back and relieved herself in a to-go cup and thanked the Lord Above for tinted windows.

When The Girls get together for a night out, Betty is always first to volunteer her roomy vehicle. She's got space for everyone to ride comfortably. And since she is generously providing the transportation, she requires someone else be the Designated Driver. The gas money everyone throws in also helps pay her tab.

Sometimes my neighbor, Betty, admits that she just doesn't feel like cruising around town in a vehicle big enough to double as a staircase for small aircraft. So she sends the kids to her parents' house, and to make things easy, trades the van for her mom's sporty, retirement coupe. Yeah, changing car seats is a real pain.

My new van may never be considered an elite class of luxury vehicle. Some may even scoff at the sheer uncoolness of it. But these days, the only thing I think it's missing is one of those limo divider screens so I can block the kids out when they are going berzerk and throwing tater tots at my head.

— Ashley (00tedsgirl) is the proudly frazzled mom of two beautiful kids. Between cutthroat games of Chutes and Ladders and spontaneous dance parties, she spends too much time on TriadMommies to keep up a regular blog.