So one of the untold fantastic jobs of being a farm wife is playing chauffeur. Taking J down to the field, picking up, following behind, driving to the pick-up, to go pick-up the semi, to drive back to the field to get the combine, etc, etc etc. It's like this never ending battle of moving bodies to where the equipment needs to be, or moving equipment to where the bodies are. (Kind of depends on how you look at it). Well sometimes I drive my own vehicle, which I really don't like to do, because some of these roads are treacherous for my little SUV. Sometimes I drive J's big truck, more often than not, I get to drive the Batmobile, this little POS blue ranger. See the pic below. From the pics it really doesn't look that bad, but let me elaborate.
First its the smell, it doesn't have AC, so its smells like a mix of a boys locker room, diesel fuel, and funk. If its been sitting in the sun for a while, the smell just roasting away in the heat, when you open the door its like a wall hits you. Ugh. Then the power of this truck. I'll have it to the floor in 4th gear, flip into 5th, hear those 4 cylinders purrr, and reach a riveting 50 mph. This thing is not winning any speed races. The brakes are also a little iffy, so you have to stop, give yourself some space if you don't want to hit something.
Why is it called the Batmobile? I don't know, J is really tall and lanky and seeing him driving this thing, all you see is knees and a baseball hat. His his legs just don't seem to fit in there quite right. Maybe its like the Batmobile, that you have to crawl down into it, I don't know.