I’ve never found a more willing teenager than one who is on the verge of buying his first truck.
After months of COVID chaos and virtual driver’s ed, Nelson finally got his Segment 1 permit at the end of August. He had his class done and his drives—and instead of the predicted three-month wait to get into the Secretary of State, we lucked into an appointment at the Secretary of State—in Kalkaska, an hour away, the very next day.
Two hours of driving? Or a three-month wait?
I was no fool. I quickly bartered in Mom Hours: A mother-son bike ride after our SOS appointment. If I drove him all the way to Kalkaska, past the Vasa Single Track trailhead, we might as well throw the bikes on the rack, right, Nelson?
We left at dawn the next morning, bikes loaded.
The truck
On the way there, luck came our way again. There, on the side of the road, we saw a used Dodge Ram pickup truck for sale. The VERY kind Nelson had been dreaming about, researching with his father and, in general, begging to buy. By “buy” I mean, burn up his savings account from the last 15 years of saved birthday money, and begin making (incremental) payments to his (seemingly) bank-rolled parents.
“Mom! It’s a Dodge Ram!” Nelson shouted as we whipped past.
“We’ll look on the way back,” I said. I couldn’t slow down. I didn’t want to be late to our SOS Golden Ticket.
A tiny worry began inside, though. I was going to have to be The Adult and ask good questions about that used truck. (Like, is that black or off-black?)
By 9:30 a.m., Nelson was driving (legally, at last), and we were sitting outside a mechanic’s garage, pacing around the truck, stroking fenders and looking tough.
It was beautiful.
Now might be a good time to mention that I was in my bike gear. Nothing like Spandex and a couple mountain bikes on the back to give one attitude and swagger.
“Hey there, mister!” I bellowed into the small front office of the garage, trying to get some service.
Not really.
I was more like: “Excuse me, can we take this for a test drive, and offer you $1,000 more than the price in the window?”
In reality, I said very little, got the keys, and put Nelson in the driver’s seat a mile after we were out of sight.
He loved it.
We stopped on a side street, took pics, sent them to Tim and asked him for a list of questions to ask when we got back to the garage. Of course, by this point, Nelson wanted the truck—bad.
Back at the lot, we tried to hide our absolute determination to buy this at any price. We returned to the sales guy sitting in an unairconditioned office, in flipflops, in front of a fan. He was either going to be really awful or really legit.
Our luck came through again: The guy was totally awesome.
He answered our questions, knocked $500 off the price, and told us he’d hold it until morning so we could bring back our head mechanic (Tim) for a final decision.
cloud nine
When we blew out of the parking lot, we were on Cloud Nine.
“We found the perfect truck!!!!” we both screeched. Nelson was figuring out mods to it, I was figuring out his payment schedule. At no point did it occur to either of us that Tim would veto the decision (he didn’t).
“Your first day driving! Your first official test drive! Your first truck!” I was slapping Nelson on the back, causing him to veer into oncoming traffic.
“No distracted driving, MOM!!!!” he shouted back.
I settled down.
I had to collect myself. An idea was forming, slow but sure. Now, as we approached the bike trail, I saw a world of opportunity ahead of me. What was a Dodge Ram worth in Mom Hours?
The Bike Ride
We did a 45-minute bike ride. Not quite on par with a 2-hour roundtrip to Kalkaska, but never mind, I was delighted. It was a perfect ride, no wipe-outs, and no mechanicals or emotionals (new term I just coined) either. When we got back to the parking lot, I quickly invited Nelson to another ride.
“Want to go again this weekend?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
“Dodge Ram maybe?”
“Actually, we should definitely go again,” he said, catching on quickly.
The BREAD
The bike ride was followed by a Dodge Ram stop at the grocery store, a Dodge Ram stop at the UPS store, and then a Dodge Ram fill-up at the gas station.
When we got home, things were going so well that I went for Dodge Ram dinner and dessert.
I was, again, delighted. And, as he cracked an egg into a million squirts over a mixing bowl, I think he was kind of delighted, too.
He helped me make spaghetti sauce for dinner, brownies for dessert, and then, the finale—Dodge Ram banana bread for breakfast.
“Isn’t this a great day?” I asked him.
Nelson rolled his eyes, laughed and said, “Yes, Mom, we’re really bonding.”
I nudged his elbow, slopping his “perfect” measuring cup of vegetable oil, into the bowl.
“Keep that up and your face will be bonding with my fist,” he said. We laughed again, Nelson just a tad more than me on that one.
It really was the best day, a memorable day. We drove Nelson’s first truck home the following morning together, after Tim gave it a once-over. But forget the truck. It was the Dodge Ram Mom Hours that I loved the most!