A compromise would be an suv or something, but I'm not much for compromising myself on my own blog.

Now, he wants a truck.

A truck. A truck. To haul things, he says. Because we're heavy-duty people. Yes, we need something to haul all our ... books? To and from the library? Or maybe we need something to accomodate Mr. Big on all those road trips we take? Or maybe it'll just look reeel guuuuud next to our grain bins.

(For the record, I like trucks, but do not see why we need one at this present time.)

OK, now about this truck.

One day in the Wasinger household, Dave and Erin decided they were going to get a new car.

"I get to drive it," Erin said. Because that's what women do. They come along and grab up all the good stuff.

"No, no," Dave said. "I get to."

And similar hands-on-hips battles began.

"You got that last car." "I'll be the one hauling the babies." "I'm the one who drove the crappy car since high school." "Don't talk crappy cars to me, I had a GEO PRIZM that used to be a driver's ed car and had a hole in the passenger's side floor where the instructor's brake used to be, and it didn't even have a tape player 'til Bernie ripped one out of a wrecked car!" "Right! And then you got the new car!"

And so on. Mainly, because Erin had more estrogen, she won. But, to put it over the edge, Dave once said if Erin let him sleep in at least 15 more minutes on a Saturday that he would let her drive the new car. She let him sleep 30. These are the mature discussions they have.

So, Erin wins.

But Dave counteroffers and says oh, this vehicle? It's going to be a truck.

"So what happens when we have to get a couple car seats in the truck? Cuz, you know, we're going to have this next vehicle a while," Erin pointed out. Hand on hip. For good measure. (I'm aware you can have both a truck and babies, but this is the logic I was working with. Go with it.)

"Then we'll trade in your car for something that can carry more people," he said. Hand on hip. Mockingly.

Right. So they'd have a truck and a MINIVAN?? Erin gasped. What?? No. Erin stomps her foot. Dave says "What? It's perfect!" and that's where they are today.

The end.

In conclusion, he wants a truck because he doesn't think I'll drive it.

Oooh, Dave, how wrong you are, my friend. I drove my step-dad's Dodge a few times and loved it. And I can blare cuuntry mew-sick out the win-duhs for gud measure. Don't make me put on the "Remember Ohio? I remember Ohio" playlist. I'll do it! You're one Rascal Flatts away from driving an Alero, buddy. Ah, ah, ah! Don't move. I've got you right where I want you!