I've mentioned before that things come into my life in threes. I'm not kidding about this. The more I pay attention to it the more it happens. You know kinda like when you decide you want a particular kind of car and then you see one at every stop light?
Anyway, I've always been intrigued by vanity plates. It is just one thing on a long list of things that lots of people do that I can't understand. Yes, yes, I know. My lack of understanding in no way invalidates the practice. It's just that vanity plates seem, at least to me, to scream "HEY! Look how cool I am!" And we all know how much I can't stand that.
Okay, so vanity plate number one is sooo typcial of Stepford that I really did almost have to pull over to puke when I saw it. It read:
Really? Really, really? There are only two scenarios for this plate being created in the first place and neither are good. Option 1, the Stepford Wife behind the wheel of this minivan is so secure (read: insecure) about how great of a wife she is that she needed to tell the whole world. Or, the equally disturbing option 2, the Stepford Husband to which this chick is married wanted the whole world to know how GR8 she is. Barf.
Yesterday, I pulled into the roller rink for my son's birthday party and right into vanity plate number two. It read:
Okay, c'mon Sister Saint. I'm sure you were well intentioned. However, there is something about this plate being attached to a Cadillac Escalade ESV that makes this plate very, very wrong. Seriously, if Jesus were here do you think a) he would be driving anything that costs $80,000 or b) something that guzzles gas and pollutes our planet like this bohemeth? Yes, I know I'm the proud owner of the Palinmobile. But, before you start reminding me of this let me remind you that a) I didn't purchase it (thanks hubby), b) I'm getting rid of it as soon as possible, and c) it does have a Obama sticker on the bumper.
Plate number three I eyed during my morning commute. It read:
Good God. 'Nuff said.