Ok, so the car my husband drives to work is tiny. He drives it everywhere and through all types of weather, and I’m beginning to think he’s challenging himself to see how far he can push it before getting stuck. Case in point, normal people probably would not take a tiny car here:
This is what she looks like the vast majority of the time:
I have no idea what she’s smelling under there, but it must be some good shit.
Sometimes she looks like this:
That’s my girl. Demure as ever.
The tiny car survived the trip and got us home with a happy dog, ready to face cabin fever another day.