Now that all of that is finally decided, let's get back to important current events.
On the way to school, my girl said “Let’s play Spud!” and my boy responded, “we’re always playing spud!” There is no moment in life when spud is not being played. Just call it!
From the way-back of the station wagon, I do not recall having remarkable prowess at Spud. But from the driver’s seat? I kick butt.
Now, don’t get all up in my face, people. You with your ‘slug bug’ and your puritanical views of the new VW. A spud is a spud is a spud.
I can spot ‘em like nobody’s business. I called 3 on the way to school this morning, including a Nolen mouse-mobile AND– I shit you not – a Spud McDougal McMod. My girl always says she saw it first, but I’ve tested her and it’s clear that she’s lying. She says that Spuds look like they have chubby butt cheeks, which redeems her in some way. PT Cruisers also have chubby butt cheeks, so we’ve added them to our call-it repertoire. We call them peachy cruisers. They don’t really count, but it’s fun to say. We call mini-coopers, too. I’d like to have one of those, just for kicks and giggles.
You know how to play, right? Spud McDougal is red. Spud McMod has any type of customization, most commonly manifested in the form of a convertible top. Beth had a white McMod. My husband had a hand-me-down yellow Spud with no back seat and a big red smile painted on the back – technically McMod, but it’s a stretch.
It’s terribly distracting while driving. I can’t help but call them even when I’m alone in the car. I sometimes feel sorry for the kids, because I’m not one of those nice moms who waits half a second so they’ll have a chance at getting one. They’re mine, suckahs. The kids have the upper hand with parking lot situations and traffic on other streets in other directions, so it’s all fair game.
It should go without saying that we also call Westies. I’m not sure if Ellie has mentioned it, but she and her husband actually own a VW Westphalia, affectionately referred to as the Westie. When you spot a good looking Westie, you say: “That’s a nice one.” That goes for Spuds as well.
The other day my girl and I left the house, and we called home 30 seconds later and bellowed into my husband’s ear: “Tell the boy there’s an old McDougal on our street!” He said “huh?” and my girl screamed: “JUST TELL HIM!” He reported later that upon hearing the news, my boy dropped everything and took off down the street on his bike. And that? That’s how (and why) to play the game.