man

This morning Ree left the office with a headache. She left me a list of things to buy at Lowe’s. So I asked Andrew to come with me, and we took a maintenance truck down to Lowe’s. It was a very manly truck. It was very dirty, filled with random tools (which were also dirty) and the radio was set to an 80s rock station. Also, the speedometer didn’t work. We felt very manly indeed.

We arrived at Lowe’s, that awesome place where men go shopping. We walked in like we owned the place and headed over to the lumber section. We had to get a special big blue cart to carry our lumber. I found the 2x4s and 4x4s and 4x6s and the sheets of plywood. Andrew pushed the cart by himself. He said it made him feel manly. We got a lot of wood.

We checked out and I pulled the truck around, and we loaded it up. The bed was just the right size to load up with 4×8 sheets of plywood. It was almost as though it was designed for manly men like us to load our manly truck with wood. We attached a red flag to the back of the truck, and I told Andrew that I needed to blog about this experience and how manly it was.

As we were driving back up the mountain, Andrew saw

“Ooh, a mustang!”

“A convertible mustang,” I said.

We both agreed that our truck was more manly than the convertible mustang, though, but speed was important to both of us, more so than being able to carry large quantities of stuff.

Andrew pointed out an SUV. “A truck with the smallest engine you can get is more manly than one of those, though.”

“Word,” I said. “But I think if you’re driving a mini-van to take your kids to a baseball game, that would be more manly than the manliest truck.”

“Yeah,” Andrew said. He thought for a moment. “But driving your kids to a baseball game in a big manly pickup truck would be the manliest of all.”

“Unless you couldn’t afford a pickup truck and had to drive a mini-van. Then the mini-van would still be more manly,” I said. I told him I would get on facebook and recommend National Man Day to him.

We got back to the mountain and unloaded the wood. We organized it in Ree’s shed. We felt manly.

And one day we will probably have children to take to baseball games in mini-vans and remember that conversation. And we will laugh at gnarly men with pickup trucks coated in concrete whose engines are the size of our living rooms because they think they are manly. But we will be more manly than them, because we will be driving our children to a baseball game.

Unless they are driving their children to a baseball game in their truck. Then they will be more manly.

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