You know the ones. They have been on cars for a while now. It always starts with a male stick figure, then a female, then a child, or two, or three, or four, or five, then sometimes the family pet. I vowed never to get one. It was just too cutesy for me. It wasn’t that I wanted to be anonymous–I was happy to post a sticker of a female figure spiking a volleyball, or one of Santa Barbara High School, or even one of the school where I work. But those cutesy family stickers? Not for me.

But when your eleven-year-old daughter surprises you with one at Christmas, you put it on your car. The “Dad” has bacon on his fork, I have a volleyball, my son a basketball, my daughter a volleyball, and of course the dog is represented. But before I had a chance to affix it to my car, we moved to another house and the sticker was misplaced (not on purpose). So for the next two years, every time my daughter would see one on another car she would ask if I had found it yet. I felt badly every time she asked. But not badly enough to reorder one.

Last week, it finally turned up. I promptly put it on the car, thinking she would be so happy. Wrong. It has been three years since she gave it to me, and to a 14-year-old it is extremely embarrassing. Her conversations now involve driving my car when she gets her permit (in less than a year), and the last thing she wants to be seen in is a vehicle with a family sticker. Now that I think about it, this worked out well for me, as I am in no hurry for her to drive!