When we were on vacation in Utah last week, I encountered something that may have changed my life forever….heated car seats.
While my wife, kids, and I drove up in my Rockin’ Red Prius (I’ve seen The Other Guys too, so please save your comments), my wife’s parents flew in from Kansas City. In order to ensure that we wouldn’t have to take 2 vehicles everywhere, they rented an SUV that could fit 7. My wife assumed the navigator role while my father-in-law drove. I settled into the middle row with Little Dude while Princess and Bamma ended up in the back.
As I was sitting there, I noticed a small button with an odd picture on it. It sort of looked like a car seat with heat waves radiating off it. Being the deductively astute person that I am, I decided that it must control a seat warmer of some sort. I pushed the button and 5 minutes later I could have died a happy man. There is just something about warmth coming from that direction that makes everything seem right with the world.
It helps that the first time I pushed the button, it was a pretty cold day, but it didn’t matter. There were a couple days where the weather was in the 60s and 70s (apparently, the weather can be fickle in Northern Utah in early April). Even on those days, I would leave my finger hovering over the button just waiting for the ignition to turn. A few times, I made sure that I turned the heater on before I buckled my son in. I figured that the quicker I could push that switch, the more premium bun warming time I would have.
There were even 3 different settings. I’m going to assume that these corresponded to different levels of warmth, but I never bothered to try it. Why would someone want anything but the warmest temperature possible? I’m sure that the heat came from some sort of coils, but I liked to picture little angels inside my seat carefully tending open flames of love. Sigh…
Of course, all good things must end. It was time to head home, so we all crawled back into the Prius (seriously, I know what a Soup Kitchen is, there’s no reason to write it) and hit the road. I couldn’t wait to get to San Diego. I was going to stop by the dealership and trade my car in for a nice big SUV with angel fires in the seats. Then, I looked at my console and saw that I was getting 48.3 mpg going uphill. That made me think about the dial on the gas tank that wouldn’t stop turning when we had to fill up the rental…….
Maybe if I just rub my butt back and forth on the seat, the friction will do the same thing.