Monday, February 16, 2009

Me a Girl and a Firetruck

Way, way back when I was a kid of about four or so I had this bright red pedal firetruck that Santa brought. There were two ladders with it that hung on the sides and a chrome bell to ring on my fire calls. Many a mile was put on that truck with me proudly pedaling as fast as I could around the dead end we lived on. When Pop would have the hood up on his car or giving it a wash, of course I had to tinker with my imagined engine or give it a bath too. My truck was tough and cool.
That summer, my grandmother came to visit and she watched me ride around and talk to me as I passed by. I'd pull up to her for a moment in the driveway and then be off on another fire call. Lots of fires in my dead end street those days. Well, we'd been out there for awhile when this really cute girl from a couple houses down came over to see me and my truck, but being a man with his machine I payed her no mind. She wound up sitting on the brick wall talking to my Grandmother and I got jealous. Somehow, don't remember exactly how, but somehow I got her interested back in me and my fire truck and away from Grandma. Cutie wanted to ride it some and I told her that if she'd push me awhile then it would be her turn. So cutie agreed and pushed me, then pushed me some more. Grandma just kept watching.
Cutie got hot and tired so Grandma went and got us some Kool-aid or lemonade, not cause I was thirsty but really to give cutie a break I believe. We drank our drinks while Grandma listened to cutie and I sipped down my drink. Deciding it was time for break to be over I got back in my truck and waited on cutie to push me some more. Cutie thought it was her turn now but I insisted a couple more turns around the dead end circle. She looked at my Grandma in hopes she would make me let her ride. Grandma tried to convince me it was cuties turn but being a stubborn little dude I sat fast in my seat. Grandma gave me that look of disapproval then said she didn't want to be with me anymore if I was going to be like that. She said something in the way of "You shouldn't always be letting the little girls push you around; sometimes you should be pushing her too." and she went inside.
Cutie went back to her house and left me sitting there in my little red fire truck confused.
Didn't Pop always say it wasn't nice to push little girls around?
I never did learn my lesson though, I've been letting girls push me around a long time. I mean, don't they say that behind every successful man there is a woman pushing him on?

5 comments:

Big Daddy said...

I am planing to write the final 25
'Revelations'
I am gonna call it bizarre
coincedence's
Ironically......here's another
I was just talking to my wife yesterday about famous people in history. How the often hidden history of women, not always getting the due they deserve.
Einsein,MacArthur, Patton, Pres Jefferson. H.G wells, Poe Etc....
Being a huge history buff for 'Odd' facts.
The list begins in written time.

Lady Ridesalot said...

Hi Wooly, I found your blog through KTdid's and I hope you don't mind me stopping by for a peek.

This was a nice story, and brought back a few of my own childhood memories. We too, had one of those little red fire trucks, but it was mostly for my brothers. I can't say I didn't take my spin around in it once in awhile, but since I'm so much older than my siblings, I had pretty much outgrown such things by then.

Nice blog. I'll be lurking around again. :)

Ann said...

Great post! And yes, it's true: behind every successful man you will find a very strong woman. :)

WooleyBugger said...

Big Daddy: I can't wait to see your next 25.

LadyRidesalot: I'm glad you stopped by and please do so when ever you please. Everybody (kids) were mostly in better shape those days when we all had to actually pedal to go somewhere. That makes me wonder though why Fred Flintstone and Barney were fat but the wives were skinny. I guess the wives were the ones actually pushing the car huh.

Hello Ann: Sounds like Big Daddy has a good one in you.

KT Did said...

Wooley, I remember my fire truck as well. Go on over to my blog. You will see we probably had the same. I remember we had to ride it like the Flintstones...what fun it was. Lady R has it right: Wilma was a skinny... now we know why! I love ya Wooley...I still think we need to buy a town and make it retro. No one comes in unless they expect retro. Ahhhhh.... we were the lucky ones.