That's my girl

Here's a funny story...

We went to a graduation party last night of a co-worker of mine's son. They live in the country so everyone was parking on their "yard." The party was hoppin' so we found a place and pulled in. We walked the short distance to their garage and went in and had some yummy food! Blizzards!! What a treat. Anyway, Al and I got to visiting so Emily and Carter (Casey was with grandma because he wasn't feeling the best) went running around outside. Emily has learned to make dandelion chains so they were out picking dandelions and creating. Carter was also trying to plant tree seeds in their yard...Anyway Emily comes in and says,

"I think I'll put this in our car."

We said okay. After a few minutes, she comes back and says,

"I can't find our car! It's gone!"

Wait a minute. Car?? We came in the truck you know.

"Oh. (pause) I was looking for MomaCat" (my license plate on the van)

So she runs off to find the truck. After a few minutes, she comes back again.

"I can't find the truck. Did we park here in their yard?"

"Emily, yes we parked here. Daddy's maroon truck. The license plate is ******."

She runs off again. This time when she comes back, she says,

"I think I found the truck, but I wasn't sure because there were kids climbing on it. Dad, there were kids climbing on your truck"(notice how it is always 'your truck dad')

Al and I just looked at each other and laughed and he says,

"Now there's a bloggable moment if I ever saw one!" and I said,

"That's my girl!"

Something about a truck...

There is something about a truck...something about having to use a handle to get in...something about sitting high above everyone else. ..something about having all of that power at your fingertips, power to drive fast, power to pull things, power....something about a truck that gives me an attitude...

I took our truck shopping yesterday to buy a gift (not telling whose or what). When I hop in, it's like I become a different person. I feel "cool" like "look at me, I'm in this awesome truck and you're not!" Then as I'm driving, I'm thinking, "Oh you in your little car, you can't beat me. I'm driving my truck."

I remember when we were dating, Al took me out in his new truck to go muddin' and he let me drive! I was given free reign to drive fast, splash through puddles, skid through mud, anything I could think of I was supposed to do. What an exhilirating experience! I had never driven anything much bigger than my Volkswagon Rabbit before this and certainly not allowed to try and "mess" it up.

Then there are the times that Al helped me move and that "one" couch that my roommate needed moved. What would we have done without the truck?

I remember our first date and locking Al out of his truck while it was still running!

How about when I learned to pull things with the truck? Taking turns wide enough....

Or how about driving through a nearby town and remarking "There's my first truck. That was a good truck."


I know my husband identifies himself somewhat with his truck. I just never knew I did.