In a minivan, you're fooling no one. You're on your way to Gymboree, the side compartments are stuffed with diaper wipes, and the interior is all sticky with apple juice. You know what? You're not Indiana Jones; you're a dad.

Reiser uses the minivan as a comic emblem of modern fatherhood: practical, messy, and publicly legible. The details—Gymboree, diaper wipes, sticky apple juice—strip away any fantasy of rugged individualism and replace it with the everyday realities of caregiving. The punchline (“You’re not Indiana Jones; you’re a dad.”) contrasts cinematic heroism with domestic responsibility, suggesting that adulthood involves accepting an identity grounded in service and routine rather than adventure. Beneath the humor is a gentle insistence on honesty and self-acceptance: there’s dignity in the unglamorous work of parenting, even if it punctures one’s self-image.