If there is one thing I have learned from Montana boys, it’s this: they love their pickup trucks. They love driving them, washing them, working on them, and showing them off to girls. They love talking about them with their buddies, admiring them, and spending hellacious amounts of money on them (kind of like me with Cowboys boots). My cowboy is no exception.
Although Cowboy claims that I was too busy being cool in high school to notice him (a charge I can only half-heartedly deny, I was pretty cool after all) I do vividly rmember him driving a old brown Ford in high school. We shared one class in high school, Agriculture, which was basically a mixture of regular classroom time and shop time. To say I was out of place in the shop would be a gross understatement. The extent of my shop experience would amount to walking through the shop and past the group of boys, elbow deep in the engine of their trucks, hands black with grease. For fear of having to participate, I was careful not to make eye contact or worse, get grease on my Lucky jeans. I would hurry past and out of the shop, back to the gym, where I belonged.
Years have passed since those days of high school mechanics and my cowboy is still working on his truck. Instead of an old brown Ford F-150, Cowboy now drives big F-350. Honestly, I think his truck is sexy, and I even think he’s sexy in his coveralls and baseball cap. What’s not sexy: 3 solid days in the shop replacing the EGR on his truck, especially when the weather is gorgeous and prime for taking a ride. Ah, the trials and tribulations of a rancher’s wife.
Life is good. -MC