Yo, 3-row SUVs are basically my second home right now—spilled Cheerios in the cupholders, that faint sour-milk smell I swear wasn’t there yesterday, and me white-knuckling the wheel on I-35 praying the third row doesn’t fold on someone’s head mid-merge. I’m parked in my driveway in Austin, Texas, AC cranked because it’s still 88°F in November (global warming, hi), ranking these beasts from my very human, very chaotic perspective. Like, I test-drove a Subaru Ascent last week and accidentally locked myself out with the engine running because the key fob was buried under a pile of fruit snacks. Anyway, here’s my unfiltered take on 3-row SUVs—flaws, freakouts, and all.
Why I’m Obsessed with 3-Row SUVs (Even When They Betray Me)
Look, I never thought I’d be that parent, but then my mom flew in from Ohio with her emotional support chihuahua and suddenly we’re playing Tetris with humans. The third row isn’t just “extra seats”—it’s survival. I once crammed three car seats, a stroller, and a Costco rotisserie chicken back there and only cried a little. Pro tip: always fold the seats before buckling the kids, or you’ll end up doing yoga in a parking lot while strangers film you for TikTok.
Top 5 3-Row SUVs I’ve Sweat Through (Ranked by My Sanity)
1. Kia Telluride – The One That Didn’t Make Me Sell My Soul
This thing’s third row actually fits adults who aren’t contortionists. I hauled my brother-in-law (6’4”, refuses to duck) to Buc-ee’s and he only complained twice. The captain’s chairs slide like butter, but the cupholders are shallow—learned that when my iced coffee did a backflip onto the beige carpet. Oops. Kia Telluride review via Car and Driver.
- Chaos rating: 2/5 spilled sippy cups
- Third-row legroom: Shockingly not a war crime
2. Toyota Grand Highlander – Reliable but Boring AF
It’s like the minivan’s hot cousin who ghosted you after prom. Drives fine, hauls everything, but the infotainment lags harder than my Wi-Fi during a Zoom PTA meeting. I parallel parked it downtown and a valet asked if it was “the new soccer mom Lambo.” Rude but fair.
3. Ford Expedition – The Land Yacht I Secretly Love
This is the 3-row SUV equivalent of wearing sweatpants to a wedding—zero shame. I once fit an entire IKEA haul and my neighbor’s emotional baggage (literal and figurative). But parallel parking? I just give up and take two spots. Fight me. Edmunds Expedition breakdown.
4. Hyundai Palisade – Pretty but Petty
Gorgeous inside, but the third row is a joke unless your passengers are legally dolls. My kid’s T-ball team tried to pile in and it was like watching clowns exit a Volkswagen—except sadder. The heated/ventilated seats saved me during a 105°F practice, though.
5. Mazda CX-90 – The “Fun” One That Hates Groceries
Drives like a sports car until you load 12 bags of H-E-B curbside and the suspension screams. Third row is cozy if “cozy” means fetal position. I love the turbo inline-six, but my milk expired faster than the warranty on those fancy wheels.
My Biggest 3-Row SUV Mistakes (So You Don’t Repeat Them)
- Trusting the “easy-fold” seats: They lie. I pinched my finger so bad I saw stars and yelled a word my kid now repeats at Target.
- Ignoring cargo space math: Measured in “costumes” not cubic feet. One Halloween, Elsa’s cape got stuck in the power liftgate and triggered the alarm for 20 minutes.
- Skipping the test drive with actual humans: Dealerships give you peace and quiet. Real life gives you a screaming toddler and a dog that farts in 4K.
The One 3-Row SUV Feature I’d Kill For
Give me a built-in vacuum that doesn’t sound like a jet engine. I found a petrified chicken nugget under the third row that had its own ecosystem. Send help.
Final Verdict: Which 3-Row SUV Should You Steal My Keys For?
If you’re a hot mess like me, snag the Kia Telluride—it’s forgiving, spacious, and won’t judge your life choices. But honestly? Test drive them with your chaos in tow. Bring the kids, the dog, the weird aunt who smells like mothballs. See what survives.
Anyway, I gotta go—someone just yelled “MOM, THE JUICE EXPLODED” from the third row. Drop your own 3-row SUV horror stories below, or tell me I’m wrong (I can take it… maybe).
