Ken salvaged an abandoned jeep the other day in the hopes I could use it.  Fenway and I gave it a thourough once-over but in the end it was too big for me to drive so we handed it down to Ken’s niece.

I know looking under the hood is an expectation of males, even if they don’t know what they are looking at. But why the ritual of kicking tires? To see if they kick back? Explode? What exactly are we testing here? And if they needed air, would that mean someone wouldn’t want to buy the car?

Sometimes human nature escapes this koala.