One of the funny things about living in a small town is that you might recommend a mechanic to your niece and she might take her car there and one of the mechanics might be utterly charmed by her tiny human.
And then when you take your hanging-on-by-a-thread Buick in and get told the suspension is all shot to heck and back, and you say, “Ahhh I can drive it till it dies,” you might get a Very Stern Lecture from said mechanic. Because he doesn’t much care if you risk your own sorry behind in that Buick, but he absolutely will not allow you to take that dear boy in that vehicle. Not even one more time. Not even down the lane.
And your wife might wonder, as she writes down this story from last year, whether she can get said mechanic to issue a similar edict about that wretched old black pickup and finally get it off the property.
But anyway. Is that tiny human a treasure or what?