From Lone Wolf to Lamaze Partner

Breakfast was very peaceful today. My wife slept late, which is not unusual. Marvin and I ate together in the kitchen. I looked out over the tranquil scenery of my rural yard. The shade trees. The chicken house. The bull 20 feet away eating grass by my flower bed. The clouds.

The bull. By the flower bed.

A big tree snapped recently, and it fell in the pasture closest to the house. Yesterday I went out and cut it up. My newly-restored Echo chainsaw decided not to run. Again. I had to get another saw out and go back and forth from the shop.

My tractor decided to refuse to start. I got a blower and blew the poo and twigs out from under the seat. I thought mice had eaten the seat safety switch. I fiddled with other things. Finally I realized the tractor would start when I jiggled the forward/reverse pedal. Another safety switch.

Lawyers.

By then I was tired and dehydrated, and when I went in the house, I forgot to close the gate to the pasture.

I called the bull’s owner, and I went out and yelled at the bull. He did not seem as impressed as I wanted him to be. I herded him on foot. I herded him in the cart. When he got close to the gates, he refused to go through.

He had been staring at my grass and shrubs for years, and now that he had his chance, he intended to stay and make the most of it. I could not reason with him.

I didn’t want to force the issue, because this bull approaches people. He came up to me twice, so close I could rub his head. Did that mean he was friendly? Did it mean he was trying to run me off? I certainly hoped it didn’t mean he had romance on his mind.

The owner says he has always been friendly and has never been aggressive, but a bull is a bull. One killed my cousin. Swung his head into his belly and tore up his liver.

I don’t have a water trough in my yard, so I knew Mr. Independent would realize his mistake eventually. I went inside and waited for him to get thirsty.

Eventually I saw him trotting back and forth along the fence closest to the trough in the pasture. I had him. I opened a gate and negotiated with him until he left. Even then, he stood in the opening and stared at me, like he expected me to give him a pizza.

He likes mimosa trees. That’s good. These trees were imported from China for ornamental purposes, and they have become invasive. I saw him chewing on a couple of little ones. I should have let him finish.

In other news, I have reached that fateful moment so many American men reach. I have admitted this to myself: minivans are superior to SUV’s in almost every way. Sooner or later, I will drive a minivan.

It’s not quite as bad as deciding to wear an apron to the supermarket, but it’s a milestone.

My Explorer turned out to be a money pit due to amazingly bad Ford engineering, so I was concerned about having to get more expensive repairs in the future. It just ate nearly $3000 because a water pump failed, and the new pump is the same kind of pump. I want to keep this car for 200,000 miles, because that’s what intelligent people do, but at what cost?

I started thinking about Toyota SUV’s, which are fantastic for what they are. Unbelievably reliable. Easy to work on. Eventually, though, the truth became clear to me.

Minivans:

1. hold more people,
2. hold more stuff,
3. have sliding doors kids can’t slam into other cars,
4. get good mileage,
5. are very safe,
6. are also easy to work on,
7. and cost less for what you get.

Why do people buy SUV’s? Because they’re cool. Simple question.

It won’t be long before before our numbers exceed two. There will be at least three of us in the car, along with a stroller and who knows what else. A minivan is the obvious answer.

I think Toyota is the right choice. As one would expect, they are said to make the best minivan in the world: the Sienna. Honda’s minivan has some problems. I wouldn’t buy another Ford if I needed an artificial heart and Ford held the patent.

I think men resist minivans because they think they make us less attractive. But do they?

The most attractive thing in a man is the sense that other women want him. If a woman thinks other women want a man, he can be in an iron lung and be in prison for kiddie porn, and she will want him.

When you have a minivan, it is clear you are married, and you probably have kids. That means a woman wanted you. It makes you a prize.

I think wedding bands make men more attractive. Yes, only to the wrong kind of women, but most women are the wrong kind.

I no longer care if I’m attractive, because whatever attractiveness I had has served its purpose. I am married. These days, I see strange women more as pests than anything else. If a minivan makes me repulsive, excellent. If it draws skanks, that’s still okay, because I don’t like skanks. They’re not going to get anywhere.

When a man is single, he feels like advertising his husband qualities to every attractive woman he sees. He will be nicer to women than they deserve. He will think about his apprearance. When he’s happily married, he sighs a sigh of relief, stops sucking his gut in, and quits offering to change strangers’ tires. Your Miata died beside the interstate? Wow. That’s a bummer. Have you called AAA? I have a date at Chuck E. Cheese.

It’s really hard for a woman to borrow money from a man who likes his marriage. Women never repay loans, so this is a blessing.

I can burp in front of women now. I don’t have to hold it in. I’m so free.

Don’t judge me. Women are exactly the same way. Dieting and exercise cease on the day of the wedding.

I looked at numbers, and I think I should keep the Explorer a while longer. We don’t have a baby seat just yet. It’s hard to know what to do. We will get more if we sell it now than later, and that will make a newer car more affordable. But driving it longer will make the money we already have in it go farther.

I always buy used cars, but things are upside-down now. The gurus say that if you want a Toyota Sienna, it’s actually smarter to buy new. How crazy is that? Something to do with Bidenomics and the Hong Kong Fluey.

Chinese virus. Chinese virus. Chinese virus. Chinese virus. I love saying that in public.

Lab-created CCP Chinese virus. Even better.

The Sienna has one big problem: it has three rows of seats, and the second one requires tools to remove. I want that cargo space. I guess I can pull the seats and put them in my storage room.

I got my first real eyeglasses the other day. I’m sitting in a new leather recliner. I’m thinking about a minivan. What’s next? Insipid horizontal-stripe golf shirts and stretch khakis? “Honey, look! Two-for-one Bubba Burgers!”

Loafers. Not loafers, please. If loafers, not tassels. I couldn’t bear it. I already have loafers to wear with sportcoats, but I hope I am never seen wearing them at Walmart along with Tommy Bahama shorts.

The Harley is about to be sold. It’s okay to be smeared all over the pavement if you’re single, but if you’re a dad, the kids won’t like it. And it takes up room in the garage, where I need to put the pickup to keep squirrels off of it. It’s going to be fixed and painted this year.

My wife is trying to get me to moisturize. Wow. I told her I like being dry.

There are now 4 pillows on my bed. The wife wants to add at least two more. This is the price I pay.

Where do the pillows go when we sleep? On the floor. Of course. Explain that.

Have to go. My wife says she dreamed about midgets. We have to pray our children will be tall.

Maybe that bull is onto something. I notice he escaped by himself.