Are You Advertising Your Life on Your Car?

Ever think about what the bumper of your car says about you and your family?

Bumper stickers portray a small aspect of your life.  Most are just pithy little one-liners on the back of your car that could indicate any number of things about you, such as your smart-ass sense of humor, your political affiliation, your religion, or how you like to spend your free time.  One bumper sticker alone is just a blurb about you, and gives very little information about you and yours.  Several start to paint a picture about who you are, but still provide only limited info.

These days, however, car decor is veering away from the bumper sticker and is erring more on the side of TMI.  In particular, I am talking about the "my family" decals that the whole darn world seems to be putting on their rear windshields.  You know the ones I'm talking about-- the white (like they've been drawn in chalk) stick-figure families stuck to every mommy-mobile in America.  If you have one of these darling decorations on the back of your car, I'm not judging you.  I swear.  They really are cute-- downright adorable, I would even dare to venture.  When these stick figure groupings first started popping up, they were mostly generic things that basically indicated the number, ages and genders of the people that might be riding in your minivan.  Of course, generic isn't the way most mommies roll nowadays.  These once generic decals have turned into a miniature resume of the entire family's extracurricular activities and travels.  Other than a love of gratuitous cuteness, here is an example of what else a stick figure decal (not the one shown above) and other bumper decor tells me about a family: 

"Hi, we are a family of 5: mom, dad, 2 boys and a girl. My daughter-- our middle child-- is a dancer.  See her cute little tutu?  My oldest son plays soccer and the youngest plays lacrosse.  (That weird stick and helmet are for lacrosse, not butterfly netting.)  I love to play tennis and my husband is a cycler.  We have tons of insanely expensive sporting equipment and dance apparel at my house, thanks to these activities.  We are also rarely home on the weekends, because of our sports.  If you just follow me home, you will see where I live, and then you can come back this weekend when we are at a game, and take whatever you want!  I don't know what the street value of that stuff is, but you will surely love it-- we obviously do!  By the way, if it hasn't already occurred to you, we've got lots of other cool stuff at my house too-- my husband gets paid well, ya see.  Betcha noticed the Mickey Mouse ears on my antenna!  Well, you can be sure we didn't pay for that vacation on a Mickey D's salary-- no sirree!  And see that OBX sticker on the bumper?  The cool little white oval one with the lighthouse on it?  Those rental houses are beautiful and totally affordable-- if you're us!  Yup, our house is the house to rob, if I do say so myself!  We've got LOTS OF AWESOME STUFF!  And did I mention we are rarely home?!"

...or something like that.

Maybe I just missed my calling as a criminal mastermind.  Maybe I'm just paranoid...  But if I even got just a little bit of that info right, it's probably more info than you would share with the average creepy stranger you might encounter when you are out and about.  Just a thought.

On a lighter note, I wonder-- just for giggles-- what would my family decal look like, if I could customize it for my brood?  Would the Crazy Train decal be an invitation, or a warning, to curious observers and creepy strangers?



Hmm... Let's start with Hubby.  He'd be reluctantly wearing his bluetooth earbud, carrying his suitcase with its Gold Member Mileage Rewards tag attached, wearing his backpack briefcase and sandals (because those are his shoes of choice), with a charming smile on his face.  Then there's me, with bags under eyes, frazzled look on my face, an Autism awareness puzzle piece on my t-shirt, laptop in one hand, coffee cup in the other, and possibly a lasso or some other herding device attached to my belt-- strictly for keeping the troops all in one place.  I would look... tired.  And busy.  Ish.  Next, we have her Royal Highness Princess in her fluffy skirt and off-kilter tiara.  In one tightly-balled fist, she would be choking the life out of her stuffy-of-the-day.  In the other hand, raised high above her head, she would be wielding her cudgel royal scepter in a very threatening manner.  To complete the crazed-royal look, P's eyes would be wide and her mouth would be open in her most fierce Apache war cry.  A double-arms-length away from her sister would stand Birdie.  Birdie would have a book held up where her face should be, electrified-looking hair peeking over said book, ill-fitting clothes and pockets bulging with parking lot debris treasure, and she would be wearing her coyote tooth necklace.  She would also most likely be sporting her dragon wings, which would be fabulous.  Finally, somewhere at our feet, would be our bulldog.  (I'm not sure how you would depict a bulldog as a stick figure, but that's not really the issue here.)  Buddy would be lying on his back, tongue lolling to one side.  He would be peeing a perfect arc up into the air and over toward our ankles, just like he does when he greets anyone he is happy to see (especially our neighbors).  It would be one perfectly goofy, slightly disheveled, somewhat disturbing, but completely accurate family decal.

So, who wants to follow me home, based on our decal?  Are we odd enough to deter you?  I know I've indicated an semi-absent hubby, a laptop, and potentially some jewels (although I am sure you can guess the tiara is plastic) at my house, but is that enough?

Now that I think about it, maybe should I put an NRA sticker back there beside my decal, as well-- just to be safe!