In Texas it is possible to order specialty license tags with certain pictures on them. They cost about $30 extra, but the money goes to support the "cause" portrayed on the tag.
In this case, the $30 goes to the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department to support their many programs for the conservation and preservation of Texas wildlife. Hence the motto, "Keep Texas Wild."
The combination of letters and numbers on the tag is random. So a year ago, when Carol got herself a nice, new Ford Expedition to replace our 12-year-old Dodge van, she wanted a license tag that pictured a Texas Horned Lizard. These critters are better known locally as "horny toads." (I am NOT making that up!)
Anyway, when the tags arrived and Carol saw the number/letter combination, she said it looked to her like "Big Blue"
Well, okay. That's a good way to remember your tag number when you check in at a motel and they want to know which vehicle is yours. So for a year we've been referring to her tag number as "Big Blue."
Now if you'll scroll down a few posts you'll see that I also just got a new vehicle. And like my wonderful wife, I decided to support Texas wildlife by putting a horny toad on MY ride also! Last week I went to the county tax office to order mine. The receipt shows what MY number/letter combination will be.
I was really hoping for something like "LTL BL" which I could christen "Little Blue," since my car is smaller than hers and blue in color. But no such luck. What I got was "FJ 50P."
Carol looked at that and immediately said, "Oh, 'Fat John, 50 Plus!'"
Needless to say, despite having my very own horny toad license plates on their way, I am NOT pleased with the memory aid she has come up with! I mean, come on! There are LOTS of potentially complimentary (or at least neutral) memory aids she could have thought up using "FJ." "Fighter Jockey" comes to mind, recalling my days as a Navy F-4 Phantom pilot.
But alas, I fear that my car will forever be known to the two of us as "Fat John," for once spoken some words just can't be taken back or forgotten.
So I guess that the next time Carol makes some snide remark about a bit of "middle-age spread" appearing on or near my waistline I'll have to tell her, "I just trying to live up to my car's nickname."