Friday, 1 June 2012
I Don't Care What My Car Looks Like, But I Want A Luxury Stroller
Strollers- I’m obsessed. I don’t know what has happened to me. I pretty much spend all day thinking about strollers. Okay, obviously that’s not true. I also think about important things like coffee, youtube, and rubber duckies, but I can’t be serious all the time.
When I was pregnant, I had a very practical outlook towards strollers. I bought the smallest and cheapest stroller I could find that was compatible with my car seat. Simple as that. I thought it was ridiculous when I saw women strutting around with their SUV strollers, and I was shocked and disgusted to learn that there were strollers that cost over $1000. Sigh, I was so innocent and naïve then. Now I’ve gone to the dark side, and I’m a full on stroller addict.
Actually, I’m kind of a stroller player. I walk down the street shamelessly checking them out and fantasizing about them, but I can’t commit. I’ll date a stroller for awhile, reading its reviews, and lovingly stroking its frame in the store, but that’s about as far as it goes. I’m just too afraid of commitment. What if I choose the wrong one and he lets me down? What if he turns out to be unreliable? What if I grow to hate and resent him? What if I fall in love with a better stroller, but now I’m stuck in this lukewarm relationship with a stroller that I should have never bought in the first place? This stroller stuff is stressing me out.
I’ve had a crush on the Bumbleride Indie for awhile. This stroller seems like a great choice- he can handle all kinds of terrain, he only weighs 20 pounds, and he’s HOT! He’s like the George Clooney of strollers. But what if my love for the Indie is based solely on physical attraction, and it’s not really the right stroller for me?
I think my real fear is that once I do finally commit to a stroller, all the fun will be gone. I won’t be able to walk down the street, and think “Oooh, I like that one! Maybe that will be my next stroller!” because once I commit, I’m not going to buy another one. I mean, I’ll dream about it, of course, but I fear my husband is soon going to get jealous of the strollers and stage an intervention.
Maybe I don’t even want a new stroller. Maybe it’s just about the thrill of the chase. So, if you’re out walking, and all of the sudden, you see a crazy lady running towards you, don’t worry. It’s just me, and I’m not chasing you; I’m after your stroller.