Draw an “L” on my forehead with sump oil

I'm not a car person. Husband isn't either. We only have one and it doesn't get much love. It's 10 years old, dented, plastered with stickers and littered with old Diet Coke cans and crumbs and other crap. It stands out like dogs' balls at school pick-up. We live in a shiny, new Volvo people-mover... Continue Reading →

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