The Stroupes are proud of our little family van. We’ve had it for eight years now. It had traveled a little over 20,000 miles when we got it. The odometer is now tickling the 160,000 mark. It got us to Orlando, Florida to see Mickey Mouse last fall without so much as a cough.

But the family van has some quirks. Its little inboard computer went wacky several years back on the way to the beach, forcing the family to spend the night at a cheap hotel somewhere near Newberry, S.C. It turned out okay- the kids loved the swimming pool.

My adventurous mother discovered back in high school that the mileage on an odometer doesn’t advance when you travel in reverse. Trying to hide the extent of her adventures from her dad, she drove several backward miles with her head turned looking out the rear window in an ingenious attempt to avoid punishment.

But she ended up in bigger trouble when she became acquainted with a local ditch.

I might try driving the van backwards from now on to save precious odomoter numbers. I already park it backwards at the local drive-in movie theatre before we pull out the lawn chairs. But since the van is immobile at that point anyway, I get the feeling that doesn’t count.

Lately the van has been misbehaving again. It is related to the fact that you can take the keys out of the ignition while the engine is running. The kids think that’s funnier than an episode of Andy Griffith but it has caused problems. Often times, after the Stroupes and the key have long since departed, the radio- even with the volume down- remains on.

The usual result is a dead battery and an embarrassing request for a jump start from friends and strangers alike. The parking lots it has died in recently include Arby’s, Wal-Mart (twice) and our church’s. Some jumper cables, a stiff caffeinated drink, and a sense of humor go a long way in these circumstances.

Last week the van jinx struck again. The doors were left open all night to air out a spill and the lights stayed on long enough to zap the fickle little battery. My attempts to revive her the next morning before my wife and I ventured out in different directions to take the kids to school were fruitless.

My wife flagged down a bypassing neighbor and child number three was on his way. Another neighbor pulled in the driveway and offered his assistance. I must have looked pitiful because he didn’t even laugh at my bedroom slippers.

Moments before he pulled up, the van had roared to life. As I saw him exiting our neighborhood, our obnoxious family jewel intentionally conked out. I transported boys number one and two to school in my truck but soon returned to face off with my nemesis.

Knowing she was one step from the junkyard, the contemptuous lady wisely cranked right up. We kissed and made up and an uneasy truce has existed since. So if you see the Stroupes in our white van, throw up your hand. But don’t fret if we don’t respond, we may be in deep concentration bein’s how we might be traveling down the road backwards.