Shopping Suggestions

I don’t ask Martin what he’d like for Christmas. Because I know the answer:

“You could get me a new alarm clock radio. I need one. And camping equipment is always good… Or an army truck. I’d love a cool army truck.”

An army truck.

He sounds a little bit like a normal person who asks for a sports car.

But as much as you’d like a sports car, you don’t seriously think you’re going to get¬†one.

Martin, however, is trying to plant the seed for an army truck — lay the foundation for a 2.5 ton military vehicle that fits 16 troops — in the same way that he paved the way for our gator.

Which I did buy as a surprise several years ago.

Christmas morning with my Dad, 2005

But an army truck? What the hell are we going to do with an army truck? And where would we’d park it?

“I’ve already figured that out,” he says. “Up the road at that farm where they park all those tractor trailers. We’ll just ask to leave it there.”

“Martin, we are not buying an army truck.”

I punch the words with some finality.

But I know that if he’s plotted where to park it, then he’s actually pondered the possibility of having one. (Which seemed unimaginable to me. But google “army trucks for sale.” They are definitely out there.)

Occasionally and without warning, Martin offers the benefits of owning a military cargo truck. “When we host our river tubing trip, we’d all be able to ride down to the river together…”

Well Martin, treat this blog entry as my signed, bound affidavit on the subject. On Christmas Day there will not be a vehicle tucked behind the silo to discover when you fill the water trough.

Go rummage around under the tree. You’ll find some socks and an alarm clock radio.