I recall writing about new tools at the beginning of last year. It was when we bought our first refrigerated van, and there were just a couple of teething problems. Recently I wrote about our excitement regarding another new tool: a much, MUCH bigger vehicle, in which to fit your dinners so we can get them to your place.

Now, this being the second vehicle, I consider myself an old hand at logistics. I surely would not succumb to the difficulties of last time. Lesson learned from that fiasco: the one when all the veggies ended up in the driveway. No; no such mistakes this time.

Did I mention that the new vehicle is MUCH bigger?

One of the junior recipe testers and I needed to run some errands, including picking up some fruit and veg from the local shopping centre. I reasoned that the 5.5 cubic metres of box now attached to the back of the ute, would be just the thing to manage a small box of produce. The junior was just excited to go out in the new car.

We drove into the car park. As we entered there was a weird noise. A clanging of sorts. I looked carefully at the road, expecting to see a waste water grate in the floor. I saw only deceptively smooth concrete.

Something moving in the rear view mirror caught my attention. I noticed a large horizontal bar swinging in the breeze. It was hanging from the roof and flapping wildly. It then dawned on me that I was the cause of its flapping. It was the height restriction bar. And we were too big.

Given that we were now in, we parked and shopped as planned. This left the small problem of getting out again. I needed advice on how to get out of the carpark without damaging anything else. I sought out the font of all wisdom on such matters: the man who drives the trolley tractor.

"You may not come in if you are above that height," he told me.

"I see. But what if you did?" I enquired.

"You cannot."

"Right. Which is the tallest exit?"

"They are all that height."

"Excellent. Good to know."

The new vehicle is large. She is tall. And she may not go into the shopping centre car park. She also needs a name. After this rather fraught shopping trip I'd like to call her Great Big Bertha. But I'd like your help to come up with something a little more becoming.

So, what shall we call her? Comment below with your suggestion. The best suggestion, and the name with which the ute will be christened, wins a Dinner on the Table gift voucher, worth $50.