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In my husband’s ongoing quest to drag all his junk up from the cellar and scatter it around the barn (in preparation for a yard sale that will never happen) he found a toy.

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A remote control car to be precise.

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And after installing fresh batteries, he had to take it for a test drive.

And by test drive, I mean a ‘slam into all the furniture legs at top speed’ drive.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten was woken from his fifth nap of the day and not at all pleased.

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There will be hell to pay for this disturbance, I guarantee it.

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🥴

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