Fix or Repair Daily

In a perfect world, I would not lose the paper in which I had written a bunch of notes on my thoughts about banning books. In this world, I lost that piece of paper AND the menu I planned for next month, complete with side dishes. I was completely irritated over this fact three hours ago and now I'm just chalking it up to another day. Instead, you get to hear about The Cable Guy's new truck.

The Cable Guy was recently promoted (because he's a rockstar studmuffin of a man!) and part of his new duties will have him be on call for a week at a time. He also is not able to park his new rig at our house because it is the same size as a small house. A tiny house. Of which I am obsessed. But that too is for another post.

So now that The Cable Guy is unable to just walk out of the door and jump into his work vehicle, he needed a way to get to work. And I needed a way to get home if I was at work on the weekend (his days home with Monkey).

Back story: in December, we traded in both of our Subaru's for a brand new Toyota Highlander. I don't just mean brand new to us, I mean still had new car smell and single digit miles on the speedometer new. I love this car. It is the last car I will ever buy until it dies a very long grueling painful death. It will fit one more car seat nicely and still have room for all the visiting relatives who come to play with our babies and ignore us (a condition I've come to accept but one The Cable Guy still struggles with. Silly only child). Since my beloved and I do not have days off together, on the days he was home with Monkey, I would get dropped off at work. Now that I could be stranded at work at a moment's notice while Monkey is in his grandparents care, we decided we needed a VERY cheap second vehicle.

My new mommy mobile, Lander the Highlander.

Enter the last thing I would have ever purchased for myself, a 2002 Ford F150. A Ford. And not a cool Ford, like when we owned a Mustang. Oh. No. A Ford truck. With a cassette player. And a smell. A smell that I couldn't describe. A smell that I still can't find words to describe but has lessened because The Cable Guy took some toxic odor killer stuff to the inside and now it smells like fresh sunshine.

The guys at work were positively drooling over it and I just shook my head, because as wonderful as I think I am, I will never understand the love a man has for a truck. I'd still be driving my little Saturn SL2 if it were up to me. Sigh. The one plus out of this is that if this vehicle lasts another fourteen years, I can tell you what Monkey is going to be driving. Now I need to go cry because my baby will be driving in fourteen years (motherhood is full of interrupting emotions).

Are you driving a vehicle you hate? What is it? What would be your dream car? (Mine's been the same since I was twelve, a Lamborghini. This still blows my husband's mind)