Denial

Back in December, the good folks at @HondaCanadagave me a challenge. They lent me the new Odyssey Minivan and in return I had to see if it delivered.

Yes, the Minivan. The last bastion of parental hold-outs. A bridge too far. A line in the sand once crossed no return is possible. It is an admission that you are the chauffeur for early morning athletics, the parental taxi, the delivery driver of human cargo. A physical manifestation of the loss of noontime hungover brunches freshly rolled out of bed. A constant and pressing reminder that you are no longer a youth.

Except . . . this minivan was bumpin'. It blew those preconceptions out of the water. From the slick rims to the widescreen dvd display to the surround sound system with thumping bass - this ride was solid.

Of course, it was still a van so I do more than drive slow?

My good friend Demetri is lucky enough to actually have a backyard (in Toronto this is rare) and in classic Canadian tradition decided to build his own rink. To make it happen he needed some boards. Enter the Odyssey.

We stowed the go seats. 

Folded the middle row captain's chairs.

Just like that, we were set. 

After a quick trip to the Home Depot we had everything we needed back at his place. In one trip. And there was still time for a beer.

And clean-up was even easier. Oh, I haven't mentioned the built-in vacuum cleaner. Imagine if it was goldfish crackers, arrowroot cookies or chicken nugget remnants instead of merely woodchips . . .