I have about a dozen things I could write about from this weekend. George turned 37 yesterday, Sophia fell off our bed and got her fourth black eye, Samuel fell out of a tree and Sophia fell again but this time into George's huge bucket of old motor oil in the garage. Not pretty....
But I've decided to write about a little adventure I had today that involved a very old and loud Chevy truck. George has a friend, Adam, that comes over all the time. He's very young, probably around twenty, and comes from a tough background so he seems to need a place to hang out. He owns a very old and very loud truck. George and Adam sit out front, pop the hoods of their vehicles, and talk about what's underneath those hoods. Fascinating, let me tell you.
Today, I was trying to get some stuff done outside. It was a beautiful day and perfect for yard work. I took a trip to Home Depot and picked up about ten bags of mulch, thinking that would be plenty. It fell very short. Adam and George were outside with their popped up hoods when I noticed Adam's very large, old and loud truck. He must of noticed me eyeing his truck because he immediately offered it to me.
"Can you drive a stick?"
"It only has three gears."
"And the parking brake doesn't work, so don't park on a hill."
"Ok..Can I have the keys?"
"You don't need a key."
At this point, I should have known better and left the truck alone. But I felt up to the challenge. Having these two guys with huge smirks on their faces, thinking there is no way that she's going to drive that piece of crap to Home Depot, helped push me to do it.
I stalled it twice trying to get it out of the driveway. But after that it went pretty smoothly. The three gears were really more like two because I never found first gear. I couldn't figure out how to turn the music down, so I had very loud and very angry rap blasting through the open windows. At one point, I pulled up to a red light. Next to me was a mini-van, with what looked like a soccer mom and her kids inside. My music was loud, very loud. It could very easily be heard through closed windows. When I say angry music, I mean very angry music. Imagine what this mom thought as she looked over at me in this huge truck, with every angry at white people cuss word imaginable, blasting through my windows. She looked at me like I was from another planet.
Home Depot was packed. I needed about forty bags of mulch. And guess who loaded every single bag into the truck? And the stupid back of the truck could not be lowered. So I had to haul them up over the side of the truck. The looks I got! And the comments....
"You must have a big yard."
"Wow, you're strong."
"You did all that yourself?"
"More power to you."
"Need some help?"
"Can you come home with me?"
I was happy to get home with both the truck and myself in one piece. George and Adam greeted me with a mix of relief and awe. They unloaded and spread all the mulch in a matter of minutes.
A big part of me likes to do things that most women would shy away from. I'm not sure why. I also think it's kind of fun to get the reactions from people that I did today. We live in mini-van, soccer mom, suburbia hell, so shocking them is a little bit fun. I guess I always feel out of place around here. Probably stems from being a third-culture kid and never really feeling at home anywhere, especially in the southern suburbs.
So that was my little bit of fun today. And it didn't even involve the kids! Maybe we need to get an old beater truck around here. It might mean hours of writing material!