# If a tree falls in the forest, will you shut up?

We’ve been talking about remodeling the cab since before we ever picked the truck up. I have a Pinterest page named “Kick Ass Truck Stuff.” No one ever re-pins me, and that’s hurtful, but I’ve got a million cool things crammed in there, and all of them are good ideas.

If we had unlimited funds, we’d immediately drop an extended cab on it, let 4 State have it for a minute, and pimp it to the max. But wait. If we had unlimited funds, why in the hell would George still be driving a truck?

Obviously, funds aren’t unlimited. Unbeknownst to people like Paul Carpenter, owner-operators do not stuff their mattresses with cash every day. It’s taken a couple months of running hard to even begin to get back on solid financial ground. Between buying a truck in the dead of winter (wouldn’t recommend it) and the absolute wrath of Mother Nature this year, it was a slow start. We are fortunate the truck is mechanically sound, and George found a regular, weekly run that dependably pays real American money.

Since things are going relatively well, we’ve decided to replace the flooring in Precious. We set the budget at \$100, because we’re ballin’ like that. He measured out the square footage, because my original math came to “four feet, seven inches by 920 milliliters = the square footage of Europe.”

As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t do math unless it’s math involving how much Morphine a 92-pound, 88-year-old woman can have every two hours. And just a side note: the pharmacy is actually who determines dosage; the only reason a nurse should be calculating dosage is to check their math. Which is usually a good idea, since the nurse is the one responsible if the 92-pound, 88-year-old woman dies shortly after said nurse administers a whopping dose of Morphine.

Shut my mouth, I’ve strayed away from the subject, yet again.

Anyway, we’re looking for flooring and I’m driving George nuts. I’m certain you just gasped with surprise. Since he’s the installer, he knows exactly what we need. I’m the decorator and I know what I want. This makes for endless debate over flooring. We are party animals. I sit and scroll through hundreds of flooring options while he drives.

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“Oh my gosh, this one is perfect.”

“I thought the last seventy-five were perfect.”

“No really. This one. Look.”

“Again. Driving. Can not and will not look.”

“I’m sorry, gah, I keep forgetting. I’ll pin it, you can look later. My page is easy to find, it’s the only one that has never in the history of Pinterest been re-pinned.”

“I don’t know what any of that means. Unless that’s a laminate, don’t bother.”

Laminate? What the hell is a laminate? Laminate sounds like it smells like formaldehyde. This is oak.”

“We’re not putting oak flooring in a working truck. We need something easy to clean and replace. Something cheap that looks nice.”

“She totally heard you. You go and put cheap flooring in her and she’ll break down out of spite. Then what will you do?”

“I’ll have the money for repairs, because I didn’t blow it on oak flooring.”

I hate it when he’s right.

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