“If you're looking for your Dad, he's probably” — she stopped by my side and gracefully faced me — “out in the garage, getting the car ready.” She explained. 

'Oh, okay.' I simply thought to myself.

Out of the blue though — and much to my wonder again, her smile bent down into a frown. “Just so you know, we will be using, for the meantime, the black SUV as our ride for work… thank your CRAZY brothers for that.” She quickly informed, her voice as cold as the climate itself.

I, involuntarily, trembled upon listening to that.

However, understanding what she meant and recognizing that indifferent tone in her voice, I flashed Mum a sad smile.

“Let me guess, the boys' drag race again?” 

Mum, hearing this, barely nodded her reply. Then, her jaw ticked.

“Yes,” she paused and took quick breaths, trying to control her upcoming temper, “them boys crash the red Ferrari first, last Tuesday. Then, the day after that, the blue Lamborghini and don't even ask what happened to my black jeep,” her frown deepened, “my poor black wrangler… it was not even a drag race-worthy but still, they used it. Can you believe that?” She huffed while crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest.

(Red Ferrari 🥰)

(Blue Lamborghini 😉)

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(Blue Lamborghini 😉)

(And Mum's Black Jeep Wrangler 😍)

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(And Mum's Black Jeep Wrangler 😍)

(And Mum's Black Jeep Wrangler 😍)

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