My husband and I often work together and there are days I swear that he delights in (figuratively) throwing everything but the kitchen sink at me just to see how much I can take. Similarly, I have often jumped into his pickup to drive somewhere only to glance around and think 'you poor dear' when I see door panels hanging on by a thread, buttons that no longer work, a dash that you cannot hardly see for all the pens, paperwork, medicine bottles and spent cartridges scattered across it and a floorboard that has enough dirt in it to create a viable flowerbed. Therefore, over the years I have definitely come to realize there are similarities in the way men treat their pickups and wives.
There are some men that have pickups strictly for show. The pickup has many *ahem* enhancements that were not necessarily standard issue. You know, things to perk up their ride. A lift kit, shiny rims, all the bells and whistles. These pickups sure do look nice, and many are often jealous when they see them on the road, but.... when it comes down to it - are they actually functional? Can they really serve a meaningful purpose in society? Time will tell. Also, I seem to notice that oftentimes men will trade in this enhanced model after a few years and upgrade to a new, more enhanced model.
Along these lines are the poser pickups. The pickup has a feeder, a bale bed, a hitch, all the necessary accoutrements... but you wonder if they've ever actually done any real work. Not a speck of dirt on them EVER, and the interior always looks like they came straight from the showroom floor. I don't know about you, but I've yet to see a pasture that never had mud or dirt in it. I, too, would like to keep things clean around here, but somehow it just never happens... These pickups are lovely to show off in front of company, but rather useless in a functional setting. Thank goodness most never make it to that point.
Next is one of my favorites - men that love their ol' faithful and are not afraid to show it. He probably acquired her brand new 30+ years ago and has taken the best of care of that pickup every single day. Oil changes every 3,000 miles (not 3,001), washing her every week and taking her for a drive every Sunday afternoon. They toodle down the road in no big hurry and enjoy the simple pleasures in life. To be honest, I witnessed the inspiration for this type of pickup just the other day. I had to run to town for parts and glanced over as I drove past the car wash. Sitting in line was the cutest couple whom I adore that have been married for eternity and were very happy to enjoy the simple pleasures in life like washing your pickup.
I giggle when I hear someone brag on how much work their 'truuuuuck' can do when in all actuality it happens to be something like a Ford Ranger pickup that does well to haul 4 bags of concrete. It's okay to be realistic. Please don't act like she's pulling a load of cattle down the road daily and let's all just be proud of what she realistically does and does well. We were taught growing up that a truck was greater than one ton and anything less was a pickup. No need to pretend you're something that you're not. These pickups should be celebrated for being tiny, efficient and highly maneuverable.
Probably the majority of men have a plain jane work pickup that, although nothing fancy, does a very nice job and helps keep 90% of rural America running. There are some dents and bumps and perhaps a diaper or two under the backseat next to a set of wrenches if he has little children. He's a little behind on the oil changes but does the best he can. He appreciates the pickup and the pickup works well for him. He could probably stand to tell her that a little more often.
There are a few pickups rolling down the road that I would venture to call a TRUCK. Think an '89 Dodge with a 5.9 engine. You can pull up next to that thing, hear it purr and would swear you're parked next to an absolute beast. These pickups are amazing and should be treasured. They can go anywhere, do anything and although they look a bit masculine still clean up nicely on Sunday morning.
And then there's a small subset of men like my husband. During our marriage he's only had two feed pickups. Not because he doesn't treat them like absolute dogsh!t but because he runs them until they are limping around on their last leg and near death. He changes the oil once all the bells and whistles on the dash start to alarm him of an imminent shut down and washes her once a year whether she needs it or not. (Spoiler alert, she always needs it.) He asks her to run 20 miles an hour through a pasture chasing cattle then thinks nothing of slamming on the brakes and making a complete 180 on her day's plans to do something else suddenly deemed more urgent.
For example, last summer I took his driver seat to a man to have it recovered as his Father's Day present. When I went to pick up the seat, the man was so kind and polite.
"Well, ma'am. He, um. Well, um. He damn sure got the good out of that seat. Frankly, there was nothing left."
I believed every word he said. The poor man couldn't even recover the seats; he had to rebuild them.
I write this all in good humor, not as a cry for help. It just happens to be one of those things that once you make the connection you just cannot ever 'unsee'. And this is the type of post you can't write during times of distress or strife, which is why I've been chewing on this one for YEARS. We're finally at the point that we can both (mostly) laugh about our situation. These days, when my husband says something outrageous to me or does something outlandish to his pickup I simply shrug my shoulders and yell over my shoulder as I'm walking away "PICKUPS AND WIVES, HONEY. PICKUPS AND WIVES."
