What is my silliest pet peeve? I don't like to let anyone else drive my truck. Yes, silly, I know. Back when the kids were young, I had to drive a mini-van. I hated it. But it had a tow bar, and we have had a series of pop-up campers for years. Both husband and I drove the van when we went camping.
Then the van died, and I successfully lobbied for a Suburban. I loved that machine! It was fast, did 0-60 in a few seconds, drove like a dream on highways, and had seating for eight. That means when I had to drive my girl scout troop around, I could take a lot of them with me. But when our family did camping, there was an empty seat on both back benches, in-between the kids, for them to have room to pile their various entertainments. The Suburban had a loud stereo too. Plus husband didn't really like driving it. The negatives were that whenever I took it to the shop, it was never under $500--and I had it in often. Not for major work, usually. But for things like automatic windows or door locks that needed to be replaced--repeatedly. Plus it only got about 8 MPG. Sigh. When we traded it in, I was very sad.
But I got a Ford Sport-Trac, with a V-8, from the last year they were made. It was used, but in great shape. It's a small truck, a tiny bit bigger than the old Rangers used to be (husband bought three of those and drove them until the doors rusted off.) But it has a bench behind the driver, with three seat-belts. Plenty of room for passengers--and a truck bed for cargo. I fell in love from the start! Husband says it's a "lady truck", so it's sized for me, with arm rests and window heights comfortable for me, but not for him, since he's a foot taller than me. So I told him he can't drive it. For years, the seat adjustment motor was broken, so that was my reason--if he adjusted the seat back, I'd never be able to get it back up for me. Then we fixed that, and I had to confess that I just don't like him driving my truck. It's MINE!
Our kids tease, calling me a "bad-ass, truck-drivin' mama," since I have lots of tattoos. They say I should be blasting country music. Nah. I blast industrial metal or blues from my truck--occasionally Santana. But I like to open the sky-light and all of the windows (I don't like AC, either in my house, or my truck). I hang my tattooed arm out the window, blasting my tunes and enjoying the wind in my face. Driving is relaxing therapy for me, no matter the destination.
So one thing's for sure. If you see my truck coming, you don't need to look in the driver's side window to see who's driving it. It will be ME!
Head here to learn of other authors' pet peeves:
www.longandshortreviews.com/miscellaneous-musings/wednesday-weekly-blogging-challenge-for-april-22-2020/
Then the van died, and I successfully lobbied for a Suburban. I loved that machine! It was fast, did 0-60 in a few seconds, drove like a dream on highways, and had seating for eight. That means when I had to drive my girl scout troop around, I could take a lot of them with me. But when our family did camping, there was an empty seat on both back benches, in-between the kids, for them to have room to pile their various entertainments. The Suburban had a loud stereo too. Plus husband didn't really like driving it. The negatives were that whenever I took it to the shop, it was never under $500--and I had it in often. Not for major work, usually. But for things like automatic windows or door locks that needed to be replaced--repeatedly. Plus it only got about 8 MPG. Sigh. When we traded it in, I was very sad.
But I got a Ford Sport-Trac, with a V-8, from the last year they were made. It was used, but in great shape. It's a small truck, a tiny bit bigger than the old Rangers used to be (husband bought three of those and drove them until the doors rusted off.) But it has a bench behind the driver, with three seat-belts. Plenty of room for passengers--and a truck bed for cargo. I fell in love from the start! Husband says it's a "lady truck", so it's sized for me, with arm rests and window heights comfortable for me, but not for him, since he's a foot taller than me. So I told him he can't drive it. For years, the seat adjustment motor was broken, so that was my reason--if he adjusted the seat back, I'd never be able to get it back up for me. Then we fixed that, and I had to confess that I just don't like him driving my truck. It's MINE!
Our kids tease, calling me a "bad-ass, truck-drivin' mama," since I have lots of tattoos. They say I should be blasting country music. Nah. I blast industrial metal or blues from my truck--occasionally Santana. But I like to open the sky-light and all of the windows (I don't like AC, either in my house, or my truck). I hang my tattooed arm out the window, blasting my tunes and enjoying the wind in my face. Driving is relaxing therapy for me, no matter the destination.
So one thing's for sure. If you see my truck coming, you don't need to look in the driver's side window to see who's driving it. It will be ME!
Head here to learn of other authors' pet peeves:
www.longandshortreviews.com/miscellaneous-musings/wednesday-weekly-blogging-challenge-for-april-22-2020/
