Several years ago, all our dogs and cats died within a few months of each other and I found myself dogless and catless for the first time in many years. Hubby was taking soaring lessons at the time, so he couldn’t accompany me to the animal shelter to replenish our supply of four-footed creatures. I came home with two dogs and three cats. He’s never let me forget it. In fact, he’s never gone soaring again and left me to my own devices.

Fast forward to last week. Hubby had an appointment to take his truck, a 2016 Tacoma, in for a routine check-up. While waiting for me to pick him up from the Toyota dealership, he “just happened” to spy a 2023 hybrid Tundra with all the bells and whistles. When I drove up, he was drooling. Fortunately, we had a number of errands to run and were on a tight schedule to get home and take Younger Son to football practice.

Then I made a critical mistake by volunteering to pick up Younger Son from football practice and drive him to work to Big Kahuna’s in Destin. When I got back, I discovered Hubby had been having a clandestine texting session for the last hour with a salesman at the dealership anxious for Hubby to trade in his old truck. This isn’t the first time someone at the Toyota dealership has wanted him to trade in his truck. It is the first time, however, that Hubby had hybrid Tundras in his eyes.

“We’ll just take a look at the Tundra when we go to pick up the Tacoma,” he said.

Right. I drove him back to the dealership, where he paid for several hundred dollars-worth of work on the Tacoma. Then he just wanted to talk to the salesman for a “minute.” Almost two-hours and a test-drive in the Tundra later, we were seated with the salesman and his manager or whoever the authority is the salesman always has to talk to in order to get the “deal.” They held us hostage despite the fact we told them Hubby had an appointment in thirty minutes and I had an appointment later in the day. They made us a fair offer for a trade-in for the Tacoma. At least I think it was a fair offer, as we didn’t get the chance to check the bluebook value. They also offered to let us drive the Tundra home and come back later to do the paperwork. To my surprise (and relief) Hubby declined, but he did do a mental run-through of when we might be able to get back together. Tomorrow was out, as we both had doctors’ appointments and other commitments. But we could come back after my appointment later that afternoon.

They reluctantly let us go with the warning that since it was the end of the month, if the Tundra didn’t sell, it would probably be moved off the lot to make way for new inventory. (Right. In other words, it was the end of the month and someone needed to make quota.) Or another buyer could come in during the next three hours and snatch the Tundra out from under us. I figured if that happened, God didn’t mean for us to have the Tundra. But unbeknownst to me, Hubby helped God out on that regard by calling them the minute we left the parking lot and telling them we wanted it.

Several hours later, we were back in the dealership for the third time that day. (Glad I didn’t have any other plans.) Somehow or other, by the time we signed a stack of paperwork worth three dead trees, we had traded in the Tacoma plus its several hundred dollars-worth of work that day, owned a new Tundra, and purchased a several thousand-dollar warranty on the Tundra. Wouldn’t you think for a perfect vehicle like the fantastic Tundra with all the bells and whistles, extended warranties wouldn’t be necessary? Don’t answer that stupid question. First the salesman tells you how amazing the vehicle is and how nothing could ever go wrong with it because it has all these built-in safeguards against anything remotely bad happening (okay maybe I exaggerate a tad), then, once you’ve bitten the bullet and jumped in the deep end, the finance manager tells you everything that can and will go wrong and how expensive it will be to fix it. Oh, and by the way, the expensive ten-year extended warranty we purchased on the Tacoma is now void by virtue of the fact we no longer own it.

The whole ordeal only ended up being several thousand more dollars than originally anticipated. Everything happened so fast, I’m still not sure what hit me. Plus, the final three hours took place over the dinner hour(s) and Younger Son calling to say he needed to be picked up from work in Destin, so by that time, I was ready to sign over rights to Older Son just to get out of there. Low blood sugar can make a person do strange things she wouldn’t ordinarily do if her brain was being fed on time.

The moral of this story, ladies, is DON’T let your husband go to a dealership alone. He will find a way to get even for the five animals you brought home when he let you out unaccompanied.