Mater Would Be Proud

It was Bubs’ nap time and, naturally, this little boy picked a book. CARS. Like the movie. I don’t even know if he’s ever actually seen the movie, but listen — he loves cars, trucks, “choo choos,” basically anything with wheels or an engine, so of course the Cars book was a hit.

Now, this particular masterpiece of literature is one of those tiny-ass books where the words are printed so small they may as well be written by ants for other ants. With the lights off and the blinds shut for nap time? Yeah, no. We don’t really read it so much as point at the pictures and make up the story.

Then we flip to the page with Mater and the tractors. And immediately I’m like, “Oh hell yeah, cow tippin’!” (If you don’t know the scene — let me ruin Disney for you real quick: in the movie, Mater and Lightning McQueen sneak into a field at night where the tractors are all just standing around like cows. They honk their horns, the tractors tip over like drunk uncles at a cookout, and Mater thinks it’s the funniest damn thing he’s ever seen. It’s redneck mischief wrapped up in Pixar animation.)

Fast forward to my drive home — me time, blasting music in the Barbie Jeep, windows down. I spot a tractor mowing some random patch of grass. Normal people: “Cool, someone’s cutting hay.” Me: leaning out the window, mentally hollering “MATER WOULD BE PROUD — LET’S GO COW TIPPIN’.”