Mistaken Identity

There are a lot of blue Dodge Caravans in circulation.

Even our new next-door neighbors have one.

Every time I walk out into a parking lot, I am surprised by how hard it is to spot MY blue van.

Luckily, we have a different license plate number than everyone else.

Still, it's difficult. Once I even put my hand on someone else's handle before realizing that the car seats inside were unfamiliar.

The other night as the family exited an eating establishment, we had to wind our way through a crowded parking lot that was shared by a cluster of restaurants and stores. There were several blue vans, one in particular that we had to walk past to get to ours.

We all walked past.

Except Saylor.

She reached up and pulled the back sliding door open before we could tell her not to.

Then she looked really confused before she realized why we (I) were freaking out.

She quickly shut it.

Which is what triggered the car's alarm.

Which is what made us hop in our car and burn rubber.

Cause what is one supposed to do in that situation?

I like to think that the people sitting in the car next to ours (watching the entire thing) stayed long enough and stopped laughing long enough to explain what happened to the proper owners of that van.

It made for a good family chuckle.

And a new resolve to keep my van clean in case someone mistakenly opens my door.