vehicles and marital harmony
Wednesday morning started out like any other day at the Hadaway household. I got up, had some coffee, read the papers, and started some writing/editing work that I hoped to finish. About noon I got done, got up to get the boy some lunch, and figured I'd shower and get moving.
And then it started....
First Bob called for the number to Onstar. He'd locked his keys and cell phone in the truck. I gave him the number, and then waited for a call that it worked and he was a-ok. When the phone rang again, it was Bob again asking Onstar questions; apparently our after market auto start was interfering with the locks and he couldn't get in. They were also telling him our account wasn't active, so I got the account number and information he requested. He eventually called again, saying it still wouldn't work and requesting roadside assistance from me. Oh, and by the way, he reminded me, his truck was having a few issues so I should be careful driving in.
Soooo, got dressed, got boy dressed, got extra truck keys and headed to Bob's truck. I checked the lines tying the canoe on top; they were secure. I checked the coolant reservoir, low but okay. Got the boy buckled in and we headed down Coyote Trail. The up side is that when the canoe rack came loose from the truck and bounced the canoe half off, we were still on Coyote Trail and relatively close to home. The other good thing is that I realized we were overheating and turned the truck off while I fought with the canoe and racks. This decision allowed us to make it home.
Eventually (I'll spare the details) I realized that the situation required more work than was possible there on the side of the road. So I backed the truck up and got it turned around and headed home. The truly exciting part was that, because of the rack situation and it's proximity to the driver's door, I had to drive with the window rolled down and my arm through it, holding the door shut and part of the rack so it didn't go forward through the front window. Who knew I had such strength, but it is amazing what adrenalin and a good dose of pissed-offness does for a woman. It's almost funny, I've realized; living in the boondocks means that when you drive down a road holding the door shut and looking like a major hick, people don't offer to help you, they just wave and say to their old lady "See, our truck isn't in THAT bad of shape...."
So, got the truck home, with canoe and my arm in tact. Called Bob's office to request help and see if someone could pick up Bob. Got canoe off the truck, got racks off the truck, and started to deal with the door. I know that sometimes Chevys have a latch issue and won't shut until the latch is released manually. I'm okay with this; I know how to grab a screwdriver and flip it. I didn't count on Bob's truck however. Although he loves it, and it does have (what he affectionately calls) "character," the reality is that truck is a piece of crap. There - I said it. It constantly needs work, and it's idiosyncrasies make it possible for only Bob to drive it. What that meant for me on Thursday is that I could not drive the extra key in to Bob unless I was willing to either hold or bungee cord the door shut. And that wasn't even beginning to deal with the whole overheating issue....
Eventually Bob got a ride home from a colleague, got the door to the truck shut, added more coolant and we headed into town to open my truck, which still had Bob's keys and phone locked inside. We did have to make a pit stop on the way to Creamer's Field where the truck was because we needed yet another gallon of coolant....
At this point my patience was done. Luckily Jed's friend had called to see if they could pick him up to come over, so he was spared most of the craziness. So while I waited in Bob's office, as he decided I needed to follow his green truck home "just in case," I did what any sensible wife would do, I researched options for a new car. Enough was enough and daily driving of the green truck just did not make any more sense.
I found the vehicle which worked for our family needs - all or four wheel drive, sensible clearance, space for kids and dogs, decent gas mileage - and I looked at the dealer inventory in town to figure out where to begin. I found Bob in another office, let him know my plan (Hey honey, I'm heading over to buy a new car. Why don't you join me when you're off work?) and out I went.
Bob actually left work early, I think he was worried that I'd lost my mind, and we finally settled on a car. Of course we had to come home and sleep on it, as opposed to buying that day, largely because we had to "discuss" who would drive the car and who would get to drive my truck. At this point it's important to otice that I say my truck, because we had purchased a beautiful full size pickup earlier this year and I was so thrilled to be back in a truck instead of the "soccer mom" cars I had driven since motherhood and marriage. Bob insisted that he had to have a pickup truck, so that if we bought a car then I'd have to drive it. As we seriously don't need three pickup trucks, and Bob's idea for a sporty small truck just does not work for a family with children, I agreed that I would make the sacrifice and drive the new car.
So, with my arm still sore from holding the canoe and keeping the door from flying open, I signed my life to debt once again. True, my family is much safer as the green truck is now the "garbage truck" and won't be transporting my loved ones on a daily basis. True that marital bliss was maintained by my generous offer to give up my beloved Silverado. True, I'll be going back to work so the money isn't going to hurt us really.
When you see Bob in a truck with my mother's day present seat covers, looking safe and stylish, give him a wave. I'll be zipping around town in a little red Rav4. It ain't a truck, but I guess it'll do.
And then it started....
First Bob called for the number to Onstar. He'd locked his keys and cell phone in the truck. I gave him the number, and then waited for a call that it worked and he was a-ok. When the phone rang again, it was Bob again asking Onstar questions; apparently our after market auto start was interfering with the locks and he couldn't get in. They were also telling him our account wasn't active, so I got the account number and information he requested. He eventually called again, saying it still wouldn't work and requesting roadside assistance from me. Oh, and by the way, he reminded me, his truck was having a few issues so I should be careful driving in.
Soooo, got dressed, got boy dressed, got extra truck keys and headed to Bob's truck. I checked the lines tying the canoe on top; they were secure. I checked the coolant reservoir, low but okay. Got the boy buckled in and we headed down Coyote Trail. The up side is that when the canoe rack came loose from the truck and bounced the canoe half off, we were still on Coyote Trail and relatively close to home. The other good thing is that I realized we were overheating and turned the truck off while I fought with the canoe and racks. This decision allowed us to make it home.
Eventually (I'll spare the details) I realized that the situation required more work than was possible there on the side of the road. So I backed the truck up and got it turned around and headed home. The truly exciting part was that, because of the rack situation and it's proximity to the driver's door, I had to drive with the window rolled down and my arm through it, holding the door shut and part of the rack so it didn't go forward through the front window. Who knew I had such strength, but it is amazing what adrenalin and a good dose of pissed-offness does for a woman. It's almost funny, I've realized; living in the boondocks means that when you drive down a road holding the door shut and looking like a major hick, people don't offer to help you, they just wave and say to their old lady "See, our truck isn't in THAT bad of shape...."
So, got the truck home, with canoe and my arm in tact. Called Bob's office to request help and see if someone could pick up Bob. Got canoe off the truck, got racks off the truck, and started to deal with the door. I know that sometimes Chevys have a latch issue and won't shut until the latch is released manually. I'm okay with this; I know how to grab a screwdriver and flip it. I didn't count on Bob's truck however. Although he loves it, and it does have (what he affectionately calls) "character," the reality is that truck is a piece of crap. There - I said it. It constantly needs work, and it's idiosyncrasies make it possible for only Bob to drive it. What that meant for me on Thursday is that I could not drive the extra key in to Bob unless I was willing to either hold or bungee cord the door shut. And that wasn't even beginning to deal with the whole overheating issue....
Eventually Bob got a ride home from a colleague, got the door to the truck shut, added more coolant and we headed into town to open my truck, which still had Bob's keys and phone locked inside. We did have to make a pit stop on the way to Creamer's Field where the truck was because we needed yet another gallon of coolant....
At this point my patience was done. Luckily Jed's friend had called to see if they could pick him up to come over, so he was spared most of the craziness. So while I waited in Bob's office, as he decided I needed to follow his green truck home "just in case," I did what any sensible wife would do, I researched options for a new car. Enough was enough and daily driving of the green truck just did not make any more sense.
I found the vehicle which worked for our family needs - all or four wheel drive, sensible clearance, space for kids and dogs, decent gas mileage - and I looked at the dealer inventory in town to figure out where to begin. I found Bob in another office, let him know my plan (Hey honey, I'm heading over to buy a new car. Why don't you join me when you're off work?) and out I went.
Bob actually left work early, I think he was worried that I'd lost my mind, and we finally settled on a car. Of course we had to come home and sleep on it, as opposed to buying that day, largely because we had to "discuss" who would drive the car and who would get to drive my truck. At this point it's important to otice that I say my truck, because we had purchased a beautiful full size pickup earlier this year and I was so thrilled to be back in a truck instead of the "soccer mom" cars I had driven since motherhood and marriage. Bob insisted that he had to have a pickup truck, so that if we bought a car then I'd have to drive it. As we seriously don't need three pickup trucks, and Bob's idea for a sporty small truck just does not work for a family with children, I agreed that I would make the sacrifice and drive the new car.
So, with my arm still sore from holding the canoe and keeping the door from flying open, I signed my life to debt once again. True, my family is much safer as the green truck is now the "garbage truck" and won't be transporting my loved ones on a daily basis. True that marital bliss was maintained by my generous offer to give up my beloved Silverado. True, I'll be going back to work so the money isn't going to hurt us really.
When you see Bob in a truck with my mother's day present seat covers, looking safe and stylish, give him a wave. I'll be zipping around town in a little red Rav4. It ain't a truck, but I guess it'll do.
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