Dear Toyota Highlander designers,
It's very obvious that when you designed my wonderful SUV, you had me and other mothers in mind. You knew we'd get all geeked about the safety features, the fuel efficiency and the fold-down third row seating; you seemed to know that we mamas need a jillion cup holders because there are many located strategically throughout the car in which to simultaneously store the water bottle, a caffeinated beverage and a few extra necessities like pacifiers, keys, cell phones, kids' socks and chap stick. What really tipped me off and made me realize, though, that you were marketing this car to mostly stay-at home, carpooling moms is the pop-down mirror located directly under the review mirror; I suppose this was meant to be a mom's eyes in the back of her head while driving so she didn't have to go all Linda Blair on her kids while trying to solve who crossed the invisible line with his pinky finger first. I get it; you guys were thinking.
But, that being said, you were all guys, weren't you? And skinny guys, at that. And you all probably have skinny wives, too, because you made accessing the third row seating nearly impossible when two car seats are installed; you seriously either need to be a gymnast with sweet cat-like movements to catapult yourself into that stellar third-row seat or a bean pole to squeeze into the itty bitty space that opens to the back row.
You see, you would have known that easy access to the third row seating while car seats are installed in the middle row is essential because we mamas need to be able to climb back there while the car is packed to the brim and moving to pacify the baby/entertain the toddler/keep the troops calm during a long 11-hour drive when stopping every 20 minutes isn't an option.
Maybe there just wasn't enough space to accomplish this and the fuel efficiency? Well, that's OK. But you forgot an essential part then: the automatic window that shuts off the backseat from the front seat with the touch of a button. If you're gonna make it nearly impossible for a mama to get in the back to stop the squealing without stopping and unpacking half of the car, at least give us the option to push the button and block off the screams. And since we're all brainstorming now, perhaps you could install a foot massaging tool in the passenger seat. Ohh, and an automatic latte machine in the glove box would be handy, too. And maybe a heated, uber padded, massaging seat. Oh, and a relaxing sound buttons. And a chilled eye mask in the cooler that is built into the door and housing several bottles of water would be fab. And how about another automatic window placed conveniently between the driver and passenger seats? Just make sure the majority of the cup holders are on the passenger side, mmk? You could call it the Spalander; and no need to pay me royalties for the name or redesign ideas -- just be sure to send one my way.
Ohh, and don't forget the sound proofing.
Dear hubby, toddler and baby,
Forget about taking me on any future 11-hour road trips until my new upgraded Spalander arrives. Or I get a separate car in which I can drive alone. In peace. And quiet.
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