A little story...

When I was around 2 years old, my parents thought it was about time for me to learn to use the"big girl potty." Well, appartenly I had different plans. I refused. Come on, peeing in your diaper is much easier, people. My poor parents tried almost everything for months and months and nothing would work. I would not go on the potty.

My mom then had the bright idea to take me to Toys R' Us and let me pick out whatever toy I wanted from the store. After an hour, I finally made my selection. It was perfect. But they didn't buy it. Instead, my parents promised to bring me back to the store to pick it up as soon as I learned how to pee on the "big girl potty." But I couldn't bring that toy home with me until then. Bastards.

It took me a week.

About a month or 2 ago, my dad was up in the storage loft above their garage and there it was, in all it's glory... my toy. My beautiful toy. My parents saved it. My dad decided that he would bring it down from the loft and fix it up for baby boy. After all, it was a 26 year old toy and if it worked for me, it could work for anyone. He took the time to repaint everything and detail it. He then gave it to me on Saturday. It was the first time I had seen it in.... well, I can't even remember.



Yep.... that's what I picked. Out of the whole store, I peed for a Toys R' Us tractor trailor truck. My dad did such a wonderful job fixing it and repainting everything. It actually looks better then it did when we first got it. I mean, it has rims now, come on.... that's cool.