The doorbell rang, suspiciously long after the mail truck had departed. I ran for the door, hair standing up on end, and then raced to the big front window to see who dared to intrude on my property. I pretty much figured it wasn’t a Friend, or a Family Member, because they usually give the door a good rap then walk right in. Doorbells are for Strangers.
A man was walking away from the driveway, rolling a dolly in front of him. He climbed into his big brown truck and drove away. Mom opened the front door and saw two huge boxes. Grunting, she lifted, pulled, and shoved them into the house. I sniffed them over very carefully.
They were Jamie’s new wheels for his car. My young human has been saving every month and socking away any celebratory (birthday, etc.) money toward some “wheelz” for his ride. When he came home from school, he opened them up.
Jamie calls his car “the 8 ball”, and he has little 8 ball valve caps on every tire. Now he’s got a banging set of new rims. I think Jamie has done well. He found what he wanted and saved up for it (“not too flashy, but not stock, either”). Mom could probably use a lesson in Jamie’s “stealth wealth”.
1 hour later….
Unfortunately, the guy at the shop said the wheels couldn’t be installed because of something else that was needed. Dad said we might have to send these rims back and get something else. Jamie was disappointed, and I don’t blame him. It seems like these sort of things never run smoothly. We shall see what happens.
8 ball in the corner pocket.
Woof! Love, Maggie