Grandpa's Car

My daughter just got her school permit which enables her to get behind the wheel of a real live automobile and drive away without any supervision. None. She must drive only to school, and she must drive alone, but drive is what she does. DRIVE! Like a grown up.

So, as responsible parents, we gave ourselves the job of finding the best car for her. We found it in my grandpa's driveway. It is old. It is big. It is made out of pure metal with no plastic located anywhere. Perfect.

When your daughter hears that you are giving her a car, she is delighted. When she hears it is grandpa's old car, she is less delighted. I haven't even told her yet that I am looking to have a boy repeller installed.

My grandpa was full of wisdom when we went to pick up the car.
"Makenna, cars are dangerous," he told her. "Don't race. I did that, and it was stupid."
"I won't Grandpa," she promised.
"And don't throw things at cars when they drive past you."
"Did you do that, Grandpa?"
"I did."
"Why?"
"I was being mean."

So, that's all cleared up.