The Car Caper
I was starting to feel proud to be a Nilsson. Unfortunately, at that exact moment, my mother was not. “You’ve got some explaining to do, young man!” She stood in the kitchen like a judge ready to deliver sentencing. It was two-thirty on Sunday afternoon. The Ford sat quietly in the yard, looking innocent and well-behaved, like it hadn’t just been part of a minor felony. I knew I should’ve returned it to my sister’s workshop. I also knew I was about to be roasted. Before I could speak, Mom added, “Maybe you’re getting too big for your britches?” I hung my head. I knew my britches still fit.
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Looks interesting!
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