Last weekend we had to say goodbye to an old family friend, one who has been around longer than the Chris and Erin combo, Chris’ truck, Ruthless Red. I was surprisingly sad that morning when Chris went to clean it out and trade it in. When I met Chris he was driving that car, and it is what he drove the whole time we were dating, engaged, and married. His sister Erin drove it while we were in Scotland, but we got it back as soon as we moved back to the states. I kind of feel like Chris and the truck go hand in hand.
We have known for a while now that we needed to replace the truck with something that is more kid friendly, because if something happened to my car then we would have no way to transport Jayce around, since obviously there is no room here for a car seat. Also, this good old truck has been on it’s last leg for a while, with a transmission that whines louder and louder depending on the pressure on the gas petal. Luckily, Chris only drives it in town to and from work, but we have been aware that the longer we wait to trade it in, the greater the chance that it will die completely and we’ll get little to nothing for it. Chris has been browsing car websites, talking with dealers, and cruising through car lots ever since we got back from Scotland (in 2008, not last month), and collecting the prize money in Germany gave us the last bit that we had been waiting for. So on Saturday, Chris traded this,
in for this.
It’s enormous. It takes up the whole garage and dwarfs my Taho. But we really love it. It’s so roomy inside, Jayce just keeps running around in there hopping from the backseat up to the front and then back again. (Can you see him “driving” in the above picture?)
Chris also is really happy with it. Unfortunately it was a smokers’ car, so part of the deal was that they do a thorough cleaning job on the upholstery, and we should be getting it back today. And then all will be well.
I really like it, but I must admit that the first time that I came home and pulled into the driveway to this huge white truck instead of a little red truck, I was a little bit mad at it. Stupid new big truck, replacing our good old little truck that couldn’t accommodate our whole family. Dumb, I know. Which is why it was kind of nice that the dealership sent Chris home with these.
I was completely dumbfounded when Chris walked in the door with a box of a dozen red roses. Chris is not a flower giver, and a dozen roses are just so expensive, I would probably rather put the $50 towards going out for steak or something and he knows that. To his credit, he didn’t bother bluffing and pretending they were from him, and it did make me wonder a little bit about what most wives think about their husbands bringing home big new trucks, that the dealership sends them with flowers. But, come to find out that this is standard from that dealership. Ah, the sweet perks of living in a small town. Unfortunately not sweet enough to dull the surprising sting of trading in the vehicle of our youth.