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November 6, 2001
Well, after five days of nagging, I bought the new
truck.
My sons are masters at the art.
Nagging that is.
And the younger one throws his cancer into the bargain.
"I'm the sick one."
That and "You don't love me. You never get me anything."
And there is dust on his G4 Titanium laptop.
Today I go get the truck.
So I called State Farm and read them the 17-digit
VIN number.
And called my older son to help ferry the new truck
home.
They are washing it. I can't drive two cars home.
The old truck is already at Toyota - needing a clutch
and body work.
The Van, needing a transmission sometime in the near
future is what I have been driving all week - after they fixed the power
steering - a bolt, a belt and a cable. And put in its third front windshield.
(Construction trucks!@@#$)
My older son calmly asked what I bought.
I told him.
TRD off road equipped ------bigger than a prerunner.
He's now sulking.
Because the younger one, who is plotting how to pry
the truck out of his mother's hands - even before he's well enough to
get a driver's license - is gloating.
Seems all glasses of milk must look the same and
have the same amount of milk in them-----
My Tacoma is bigger than my older son's Tacoma. Tommy
Tacoma that is.
Shucky darn!
So my older son, 25 going on 5, is plotting how he
can get to drive it.
No no no - you are ferrying the VAN home! Momma is
driving her big shiny new silver truck!!!!!
My older son came to my office and we drove over
to Toyota.
I had paper work to do.
My son rambled.
However, he got a page - a server was down - he grabbed
my van keys and fled back to CISCO.
So I was alone.
I signed.
And signed.
And signed.
And finally, they brought up the other truck's plates.
FABIOFN.
But they decided they needed new frames. Frames with
Sunnyvale Toyota on them.
I walked around the truck.
Oooops.
A spot!
They came out with spray and a soft cloth.
Rub Rub Rub
OK Truck is perfect.
I get in. Tilt wheel.
Seats a little low.
Clutch to the floor?
Yep.
It is a truck's clutch.
I will ignore 4-wheel drive for now.
I stalled it.
My older son asked me later if I stalled it coming
out of the lot. And laughed.
Truck clutch not a car clutch.
Took me a few shifts to get it.
And then I drove home over 1 hour in heavy traffic.
I had the clutch down pat after that.
Made it to 65 in rush hour too.
Pulled up in front of the house. The younger kid
ambled out with his cane and climbed in.
We took Timmy for a spin around the block.
Yep.
Timmy Tacoma is home.
My older son came back later and took me back to
my office for the Van.
He and my younger son have odds on how fast my little
one can con me out of my truck.
My younger son is perky and lit up.
My older one commented, "The extra $10,000 for the
bigger truck is worth it. Better than medication."
Yep. I knew that. The staff at the Day hospital commented
on how "Good he looks". Perked my little cancer patient right
up.
My older son wants me to pick up his remaining payments
on his truck. So he won't feel left out. He reminded me that it was due
for service - "But it doesn't need tires this time". And he's
saving up for power windows and power mirrors - which I have for the first
time in my life. And he needs a new windshield (his is cracked too.) Hint.
Hint. Hint.
I reminded him that the truck would be 3-4 years
old before his brother got it (1 year + for chemo, then 2 years driving
ticket-free). I will pay h is insurance as long as he is in school.
This prompted my older child to ask if I would do
the same for him.
I said I would help.
Smart mouth came back fast and said , "I just
enrolled!"
He also reminded me that he wants more RAM for his
G4 laptop.
They leave home but they never stop nagging. My kids
are past the master stage in that.
I remind him I still have to get the bed liner and
the shell for the back. And by Christmas I want Low-Jack on the truck.
Can't go to San Diego without it.
My little one (6'1") now walks around unaided.
He's plotting how fast he can get his driver's license.
How soon he can drive the van.
Two years ticket-free in the van and--------.
Note the qualifier. My only protection.
Oh yes. And the little one reads the owner's manual!!!!
Points out that Timmy is ADD!!!
Timmy must be driven in 4-wheel drive mode 10 miles
a month to keep him happy.
Says it right there in the manual!
He's plotting where we can go.
As soon as we come back from Orlando.
Now where did I put that club?
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