He Was Right

This was my primary mode of transportation before kids:

Sad isn't it.

After receiving my much-loved blue Subaru (which I have since replaced, but still miss) my husband decided that we needed to keep the truck because "everyone needs a truck." Um . . . okay. So we kept it. He drove it for a little while. Sometimes I even used it. Then it broke a gas line and we received a new truck from my husband's company.

So it sat. And sat. And sat.

Occasionally I would ask, "can we donate it to charity?" "No" my husband would reply, believing that it is far too valuable a truck to just give away. He truly thought that someone would actually pay money for it someday.

He said we should repair it and then put it up for sale.

But life got away from us, and we had lots of house-related projects that kept him busy every moment of the day (and if you know my husband you know that I'm not overstating things. He is seriously busy doing something every minute of the day). The truck never got repaired. If anything it got worse.

As before, it sat. And sat. And sat.

I'd ask to donate it again, and he would say no. And the cycle repeated.

For about 4 and a half years.

But . . .

My husband walked in and handed this to me last week.

Yahoo!!!

Oh, and for the record, YES HONEY, YOU WERE RIGHT AND I WAS WRONG. There really is someone in the world who was willing to pay for that truck.

There I said it.

Oh and want to hear the funniest part? The guy who bought the truck asked if he could fix it in my driveway. Really.

My answer?

"NO! No. No. No. No. NOOOOOOOOoooooooo! Get it out of my yard. Out. Out. Out!" Okay, so maybe I didn't say it out-loud that emphatically, but that's what I was thinking, and my message was clear. No broken trucks allowed in my yard anymore. Period.

My sweetie borrowed a trailer and delivered the truck to its new owner just last night. When he got back I hugged him. Gotta' love a guy who was right!