Write about something that has: rusted shut.
I don't think Max has an upper limit (that he is aware of) for how long he can be at the play cafe in Penticton. We were there for just over three hours this afternoon while Kat attended a talk and then did some shopping.
It wasn't until the car ride home that he realized how tired he was. Thankfully it's a short trip.
I guess it didn't fully hit me until after we'd been home for a few minutes. That was when the headache kicked in.
Feeling okay at the moment, but now I know better than to do that again.
"A little more oil... there, that ought to do the trick."
"Or we could just sledgehammer it."
"I said no, boy."
"Well, looks to me like you still can't open it."
"There's got to be another oil can around here somewhere..."
"I think we should just use the sledgehammer. You know it would do the job."
"And I think you're plum crazy if you think I'm going to take that thing to this old Chevy's gas tank door! Doesn't that seem at least a little bit like a bad idea to you?"
"Okay, okay, I get it. Jeez. Can we at least use a crowbar?"