Evenin' kids. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here at the keyboard tonight.
OOOO - it's sooo shiny!
And brand spanky new!
Alas - not mine.
See... me and the wife - our pal Hurricane... ya'll remember her, right? Sis named Tornado. Baby Brother named Tsunami. Those who have breakables at home don't invite her over. Ya - her.
Anyway... our good pal Hurricane - went and got herself a new buggy. One of them horseless ones!
LOOK AT IT!
Scrub got to go for a ride in it. It was suh-weet!
Oh - and 'cause we here in the Great White tend to get a little chilly now and then - what with the snow and all... this wee buggys' got heated seats! Turned 'em on - Scrub's arse was all toasty. Nice, eh?
Electric this. Electronic that. Scrub's jealous.
Look at Hurricane there. All proud and such. Grinning away.
'Course the buggy pick up was not without adventure. Hurricane style, naturally.
Scrub was there. With Hurricane. When she picked up her new buggy.
Not 5 minutes after the engine was fired up for the first time... our good pal Hurricane was still in the lot of the car dealership... when she... ummmm... stopped the buggy and appeared, from my vantage point driving in the go-kart behind her, to be rather panicked about somethin'er other. Arms flailing about and all. Made me wonder if there was some kinda monster killer bee in the buggy or somethin. So - Scrub got out of his go-kart and ran over to render assistance.
Nope - not a killer bee. Hurricane... she locked herself IN the car.
Yes - I said locked herself IN the car.
I know, I know. It's no use. Trust me on this. The wife and me gave up trying to figure stuff like this out a long time ago. Life is so much easier that way.