At the end of the day, the wheels started falling off of the truck. Grandpa threw me in the car seat and only buckled me halfway. I had to yell: "broke," "broke" until he got out and fixed it right. Then, I looked around and realized that appearances were sliding downhill. I noticed that Gramma Rosie had stains all over her top and the rental car was starting to look like a trash can. I personally was covered in dirt and they had given up dusting me off. What is wrong with these grandparents? They just don't make them like they used to.
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