This is my truck. There are many like it, but this one is mine. I love it. I wash it, I keep it clean inside. As much as I love it, it pales in comparison to how much my boys like it. You are thinking, "Sure, the oldest one likes it because he's been brainwashed by his dad." Wrong. Jonnie loves the truck. David Loves the Truck. But Thomas- the one that turns TWO tomorrow- Thomas REALLY loves the truck. He wants to play in the truck's bed. His favorite activity is for me to push the seats forward and let him play in the back seat. He is one fat, happy kid when he gets to play in the truck. He throws a royal fit when I have to LITERALLY drag him kicking and screaming out of it. Yesterday I had to move the truck from the driveway onto the street so Jane Anne could park the minivan in the garage. I threw (not really) Thomas into the back seat, pulled out and parked it. As I opened the door, a banshee gave birth to a Howler Monkee in my back seat. No... no, that wasn't it at all. That was Thomas expressing his deep desire NOT to get out of the truck. Since I am the man of the family and stubborn I immediately bent to his will and drove around the block as slowly as possible and talked to him about going inside as soon as we got home. Amazingly, there were two live births of banshee/ howler monkees in the truck that day.