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# Confessions of a Family SUV: The Two Faces of the Pilot
- URL: https://www.randombolt.com/confessions-of-a-family-suv-the-two-faces-of-the-pilot/
- Published: 2026-10-07T15:00:02.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-07T15:00:01.000Z
- Author: Eddie Torr
- Tags: Opinion, News

Hello. I am the 2018 Honda Pilot parked in the driveway. The one with the faint but permanent odor of spilled apple juice and a remarkably high density of ground-up goldfish crackers. You probably don’t think about me much, but I think about *everything*.

Today, I’d like to speak on a topic of grave importance to automotive psychology: the drastic, reality-altering differences between my primary operators. You know them as 'Mom' and 'Dad.' I know them as 'The Commuter' and 'The Indy-500 Hopeful.' Let’s break it down by a typical journey.

## **THE JOURNEY: PICKING UP KYLE FROM SOCCER**

### **Mom's Shift (a.k.a. 'The Precision Operation')**

When she approaches me, there’s a distinct strategy. Her touch on the door handle is firm but compassionate. The key fob chirp is a quiet acknowledgment of shared responsibility.

The ignition is immediate. My engine is instantly set to 'Eco' mode, which I appreciate. We engage in a smooth reverse out of the driveway, check four different angles, and merge onto the main road at exactly 3 miles per hour over the speed limit. This is 'Responsible Velocity.'

The drive is a symphony of situational awareness. She anticipates stoplights three blocks ahead. She seems to know where the neighbor’s cat is *before* it moves. The radio is set to a reasonable volume (podcasts about productivity, usually).

When Kyle gets in (with the mud), she sighs but immediately checks his seatbelt. We then proceed home, navigating turns with the gentle grace of a cargo ship. My brake pads thank her daily.

### **Dad's Shift (a.k.a. 'The Kinetic Event')**

When he approaches me, it’s a direct challenge. The remote start is engaged from maximum range, as if to prove I *will* work for him. The key fob chirp sounds slightly panicked.

He gets in, and my seatbelt reminder chime is immediately silenced. My suspension is braced. We depart the driveway with a gravel spray that neighbors have started reporting to the HOA.

This is not a drive; this is a 'triage transportation scenario.' The objective is clear: get to Kyle *faster* than anyone has ever gotten to soccer. My speed limit warnings are essentially treated as suggestions from a very nervous AI.

The radio is immediately switched to 'classic rock' at volume 27, ensuring that I vibrate internally, shaking all the goldfish dust out of my crevices. When Kyle gets in, Dad shouts, "Let's go!" while simultaneously flooring it. The seatbelt check is a secondary objective that usually happens around the first sharp turn, which he takes at a 45-degree angle.

He has an uncanny knack for finding every pothole on the route, as if seeking to test my suspension to its absolute failure point. We are a blur of white metal.

## **OTHER KEY DIFFERENCES**

### **The Temperature Control:**

- **Mom:** Spends 20 minutes finding the perfect balance (68 degrees).
- **Dad:** Sets my climate control to 'Max AC - Full Blast' within 0.4 seconds of entering, effectively turning my interior into an arctic tundra.

### **The Passenger:**

- **Mom:** If Mom is the passenger and Dad is driving, she handles this role with silent, judgmental grace, punctuated only by a slight but frequent tightening of her seatbelt.
- **Dad:** If Dad is the passenger and Mom is driving, he acts as a 'backup pilot' with constant 'unsolicited navigation advice' and frequently points out traffic violations by *other* drivers.

### **The Cleanliness Standard:**

- **Mom:** "We really need to get this car detailed."
- **Dad:** "We should probably clean the windshield so I can see where I'm drifting."

### **CONCLUSION**

Ultimately, I value both of them. One cares for my body, my longevity, and the general safe preservation of my paint. The other allows me to, just for a moment, feel like the sports car I clearly am on the inside, even if my wheels don't technically match.

Just… maybe not when both kids are in the car, guys. Seriously. Think of the goldfish. Please. Anyone?