The Secret Big Truck Club

Apparently there is a secret club around these parts of Alabama. Probably around all parts where men drive big trucks.
See, you don't know about this Secret Club unless you drive a Big Truck. 


A Big Truck is NOT:

1) An S-10

2) Something without 4WD

3) A clean truck

To be a true Big Truck your vehicle must:

1) Have mud tires

2) Be kind of hard to get inside of without assistance from a manly man

3) Be able to pull things out of mud holes and ditches.

4) Make you feel like you can run things over, push people off of the road, and park anywhere without getting in trouble.

Now, I imagine this secret Big Truck club must have a really neat name and maybe a secret code or issue tracking devices for all of it's members...but I'm not actually in the club.

I'm just a spy! An imposter! A poser!!

It's all so exciting.

I drive my hubby's Big Truck and you would be amazed at the transformation. I'm driving along...and hey! did that other Big Truck driver just wave (well, he raised his hand at eye level and held it there kinda wave) at me?! Hmm...surely not. Driving....and wait, that Big Truck driver didn't pull out in front of me and blow big, black, billowing (how many more B words can I think of?!) clouds of smoke all over me.
And then I knew, I was in!
Cars, SUV's, little trucks, and DEFINITELY vans, are excluded from these "man-waves" and considerations of Big Truck drivers. Probably this is the most secret of secret societies and I will probably be "taken care of" by these strong silent type men that are members of this society for exposing their secrets.

But for the moment, I'm enjoying the thrill of being a part of such a big manly thing. Mainly because as these Big Truck drivers nod and man-wave as we pass each other on the little country roads and I nod very seriously back at them (I don't attempt the man-wave, because HELLO!) it gives me the giggles to think of how they would react if we ever parked next to each other (presumably at the barber shop or Lowe's or somewhere with BBQ ribs). I'd pull up in my big beastly truck and their eyebrows would slowly rise as the door opened and out popped me! 5 foot 5 (and a half!) of scrawny little girl with quite an attitude in her big man truck.

And we'd smile and nod at each other because they'd know then, they'd know that I know.