Music to my ears: We bought a trailer to haul stuff

 "Is that trailer for sale," Brad asked as we walked out of breakfast on our way to church. He ignored me as I started singing the Roger Miller hit. We went over to inspect it. I felt relatively safe until he said, "Wait here. I'm going to grab my measuring tape." Oh no.

I considered raising my hand during the Cares & Concerns portion of church service but didn't think Brad (or the pastor) would appreciate enlisting the powerful prayers of the congregation AGAINST the possible purchase of a trailer. I settled for a solitary yet sincere, heartfelt prayer. Little did I know that Brad was working in direct competition against me.

"Imagine all of the things that we could haul in it", Brad said wistfully. "Like what," I asked, bracing myself for the blow. "Lumber..." (which equals WORK)..."Dirt..." (WORK)...the list went on and on. (WORK WORK WORK. Great. Now I was singing Rihanna. I do have a vast repertoire of musical interests.) "Plus we can haul pellets," Brad remarked with great enthusiasm. "We have a truck for that," I replied with very little enthusiasm. He didn't notice.

A day later...

"Guess what we own!" Brad shared over the phone. Oh no. I went with him to pick it up. Never saw this one coming:  Amy Mosiman: Trailer owner. I fought to see the bright side of things. "Well...now we can bring two tons of pellets home in one trip," I tried, wondering when in my life did I start even considering THIS to be "the bright side." "No," my husband corrected, "We'd just use the trailer." "But we have a truck," I said. My truck can do ANYTHING. "We want to save wear on the truck," Brad soothed. I wasn't soothed. "The only bad thing," he began, (ONLY?!?! I thought to myself.) "is that we'll have to load the pellets by hand onto the trailer and then unload them when we get home instead of dropping a pallet like we used to do with the truck." WAIT! WHAT?!?! So instead of just unloading (which is not just a JUST, by the way) once, I'm loading and UNLOADING?!? Times three!?!? Isn't a trailer suppose to make life easier and more convenient? I sulked all the way home. Brad, basking in his trailer-glow, didn't even notice.

Naturally, we had to haul something right away. "The ball that's on it right now is too small," Brad observed, backing our 4-wheeler up to it, "We'll need a bigger ball." I heroically refrained from commenting. "You'll have to stand on the hitch as we move it to the back of the house." WAIT! WHAT?!?! "Why is this necessary," I asked, stepping tentatively onto the bar. "So the trailer doesn't pop off. We wouldn't want to damage it." So I guess we don't care about damaging our wife, I thought as I precariously balanced myself along a three inch-wide metal bar, gracefully riding across my lawn, my back hunched like a camel, waving to
our neighbors.

Now it was time to secure our load with rope. Brad has saved every scrap of rope that we have encountered over our almost (but not quite yet...) 29 years of marriage. He secured his end before handing the coil of rope over to me. The only song that came to me was "Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round That Old Oak Tree," but it was WAY to upbeat for how I was feeling. I flung it back at him. He tightened it to the point where it snapped. Is that a metaphor? I sighed. Dry rot. Of course. "Maybe it's just the end," he mused. We tried again. SNAP. Sigh. One more time. SNAP. SCREAM. "Hold on...I'll get another rope," he assured me. Imagine all the things we could do with that rope, I thought to myself, whistling the Mockingjay tune, "The Hanging Tree."