What a (sales) woman!

What kind of salesperson would offer to drive a new car to your home, pick up your dog, and take him for a test drive?

Wendy, that's who! Even when Mom showed up glummer than glum at the Honda dealer, having pinky-sworn an open mind to Dad before they left (her fingers on the other hand were crossed) and was unbelievably impolite, Wendy tried like crazy to please. She thought of every possible car that would fit our family's needs (as we know, those needs are tri-colored, XL, and awfully demanding). When it looked like one might do, she made the offer, with enthusiasm.

Unfortunately for her, though, this time it was Dad who wasn't interested. "Too small," was his only comment.

Why don't they make openings on the insides of pockets?

Because I was stuck at home, with nothing to do, I chewed on the car situation. Then I chewed on Mom's running jacket. She had left it, well within reach, on the coat rack, its pocket full of treats. What was she thinking?  Perhaps when she comes to, she'll realize there's really only one car for me.