Lucille usually drove the creamy yellow Oldsmobile and Ed drove his white Chevy truck. But since they had the grand-kids for the weekend, Ed drove them all in the Oldsmobile.
“This is the poor man’s Cadillac,” he told the grandson and granddaughter sitting in the backseat.
They drove to Lowe’s to look at the latest models of lawnmowers. Ed examined each lawnmower as if he were choosing between a Michelangelo or a Lorenzetto sculpture. He chose the one he wanted and Lucille pulled out the credit card. They could have paid cash, but Lucille liked to funnel every purchase through Visa or MasterCard.
“How are we going to get this home?” the granddaughter asked.
“Your Gramp said it will fit in the trunk,” Lucille said.
Out in the parking lot, Ed took the screws out of the handles and the top portion folded down neatly.
“That ought to do it,” Ed said.
“Ed, that’s not going to fit,” Lucille said.
“Yes it will.”
“No it won’t.”
“Yes it will,” he said as he hefted the mower into the trunk
“No it won’t Ed.”
“It will fit.”
“Ed, that thing is too big, the lid won’t close,” Lucille said. Although the grandchildren never heard Lucille sing, they did notice her voice rose at least an octave this time. The grandchildren exchanged a look, but didn’t speak out loud.
“It’s going to fit,” he said. Ed brought the lid down gently and it wouldn’t quite close. He lifted it again and adjusted the position of the mower. He tried it again, but there was still a gap.
Lucille peered at the space between the trunk and the lid, “Ed, It won’t fit.”
“Ed, it’s not going to close!”
“Yes it will!” He slammed the trunk lid down as hard as possible. The unmistakable shape of the lawn mower protruded through the once smooth trunk lid.
“I told you it would fit,” Ed said.