Mysterious Noise

There is a noise in my truck.

Sort of a cross between a cheep and and a squeak.

It’s the kind of noise that might be made by a small animal or bird.

It’s also the kind of noise that could be made by some sort of springs or belts doing whatever mysterious things they do.

Unfortunately, I have the kind of truck where neither source of squeaking would surprise me.

Sweet, Nice and Cute

Taking my children out in public transforms them.

It transforms them into kids that people make lovely comments about.

Comments that involve words like sweet, nice, and cute.

Now, mind you, I’m not complaining. Clara

Having demons in private and angels in public is far better than the inverse.

HOWEVER…

I wonder what those same people would think if they heard what happens in the truck when we say goodbye.

Tired girls loose their angelic qualities quickly when left with just Mom for an audience and even my well behaved children have conversations that might stun that nice little old lady in the checkout line….Ivy

Ivy: “Mom, You know what I love, love LOVE? Dead Racoons! Because-”

Clara: ” -‘Cause you can STEP on them!”

Ivy: “NO Clara! Because then they don’t kill our ducks and chickens!”

(I would like to state for the record that while I’m in full agreement with Ivy I have no idea why Clara wants to stomp on the roadkill.)

Ding…Ding…Ding…Ding…

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

My truck has a problem.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

It dings.

It does not matter if the keys are out of the ignition.

It does not matter if the lights are off.

It doesn’t even matter if the truck is running.

It just…

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

I’m fine with the dent leftover from the deer incident.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

I’m fine with the spare tire permanently on the truck in all it’s rusty glory.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

I’m fine with the light that insists that we have low windshield wiper fluid when it’s full.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

I’m fine with the fact that half the doors don’t automatically lock.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

The rust – great.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

The dirt – fantastic.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

The rattle from the heating vent – music to my ears.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Miscellaneous whining engine noises? A slow leaking tire? A great shift that doesn’t line up? It’s all fine.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

But we have got to fix the –

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

It’s where I…

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

…draw the…

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

…line!

Ding.

The Expedition

Once upon a time a family friend asked if we wanted to buy their Expedition from them.

I said, no that’s silly.

I said, we have the Explorer and even though it is missing things like a parking break, air conditioner, fifth gear and it has seven million gazillion miles on it, (I’m just approximating here, the odometer was broken and it was on it’s second engine) we just got new tires for it and it works fine.

I said, besides, when we go on trips we can always put the two kids, the two dogs (one of whom is a Great Dane) and the two of us in the Taurus.

I said we are FINE.

I realize this all looks like sarcasm but let me assure you that this was truly what I said- apparently I suffer from bouts of insanity. John was not suffering from insanity and said something along the lines of – “You are nuts, they are giving us a really great deal, go look at the truck.”

So I looked at it.

I said, it is too big.

I asked, why do we need so much room?

I said, the space is weird head space that is no good for packing things in.

I said, I’d rather save my money and save up for a giant pick-up truck.

The non-insane member of the household won the debate – we bought the Expedition.

Fast forward two years and here is the inside view of the truck on the way home from a family gathering last weekend:

John and I are in the front, the floor by my feet is full of stuff. The girls now take up the entire back seat and the floor by their feet is full of stuff. The back has the two dogs in their kennels around which is the rest of the stuff that didn’t fit by the girls feet and way up on top of it all is a pet carrier with a little hen chicken with her nine chicks.  Amazingly we could still see out the back window, which was handy since we were also pulling a trailer.

I admit it, I was wrong, the truck is great. It’s a perfect size for a family of five, plus two dogs and assorted livestock to travel in. John can “I told you so” until the cows come home on this one. Of course if we had a diesel, crew cab, pick up with a manual transmission and eight foot bed (and while we are dreaming let’s make it red) we’d have lots of room AND it wouldn’t smell like the inside of a chicken coop all the way home. This is a fact that makes John grumble about money and responsible spending and Ivy look at me like I’m the crazy person that I briefly was when I didn’t want the Expedition.

One day as we were driving Ivy was looking out the window and telling me which cars she wished we had and what colors she wished they would be. Then she asked me what kind of car I wished I had,  I responded that I didn’t want any kind of car that I wanted a giant truck like Uncle Tyler. Ivy looked at me in the review mirror with astonishment and asked, “WHY???” So I excitedly told her all the reasons I wanted a big pick up truck. All the great things we would be able to do with it, the places we’d be able to go, all the people, dogs, livestock and stuff we would be able to haul with it, and what did my girl do? She looked out the window pointed to one of the new smart cars, (you know. the two seaters about the size of a giant soda can,) going down the road told me that was the kind of car she wanted.

It’s funny, I remember giving birth to her, and yet there are times when I just can’t believe she’s mine…

Ivy and I will have to save up our pennies – lots and lots of pennies- for our dream vehicles. Maybe one day she can call her Mom when her soda can (I mean car) breaks down and I can bring it home in the bed of my truck for her. But until then we’ll drive our Expedition because, bouts of insanity aside, it’s just about perfect for right now.