My car wasn't quite as clean ... not only did it have a lot of pop cans rolling around in the back, but it certainly wasn't vacuumed or dusted. In fact, I think I could count on one hand the times I washed the outside of it. (Besides parking it outdoors when it rained.)
So when we moved to the farm, Kris got a farm truck. Every farmer has one, as far as I know. My dad always had - and it was always the same. Fly specked, dirty, but also super useful, since it had a toolbox on the back with any tool you could need. It was powerful enough to pull anything. He helped me move numerous times, and the truck bed was always big enough for all my possessions.
Not to say Kris and I didn't have a truck before we moved to the farm - we did. (This should have been a clue to me that there was a farmer in Kris all along.) I didn't know how people got along without trucks. What if you needed to get mulch? Take home furniture you bought? Chop down a Christmas tree?
Regardless, we got a farm truck. This truck has been through a lot, so far. The other day, a cow in the pasture snapped off the mirror. Last year when the cows were out and he was using his truck to herd them back, he ripped off his bumper when he was turning around quickly. During calving season, Kris puts a homemade rack on the back of it so he can transport the calves to the barn. There's no mistaking it's a farm truck.
I was riding with my dad in the pasture today and he said, "Once someone asked Dave (our employee) why my truck always looked beat up. And Dave said, 'Because Jack uses his truck as a tool, not a vehicle.' And Kris does too!"
Of course, when you put it that way, my car's a tool too - a recycling bin for pop cans.