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The year I got a go-cart. I was around 11. My dog immediately bit all the tires except for the one near the motor. He could pick up the front of the go-cart with me in it, and shake it. I had three flat tires in 5 minutes. There's a picture of me somewhere driving around on the go-cart carrying a bat or a golf club. I had to poke the dog to keep him from biting my tires.
Then I proceeded to tear ass around the woods for the next....4 years? At least. I eventually had to strip that thing down to the chassis and repaint it. Replaced the little slipper clutch a few times, replace the fuel tank where some close racing with a friend might have caved it in and made it leak on the exhaust :|, then I had to replace all the tires because they were bald. I drove the bejeezus out of that poor little thing.
Memories. :jess:
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My best Christmas was when I got up in the middle of the night really young to just come out and look at the Christmas tree and stuff. No one was around, so I just sat on the couch in the living room for a while. Heard a car door slam and saw my dad coming inside. He had presents for everyone and instead of getting angry at me like my mom would have, he asked if I would like to help him wrap things for my mom and my sisters.
I don't even really remember what I got, I was just so happy to be helping my dad.
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The year my grandmother couldn't come over, my dad and I celebrated by drinking and woke my ill mother at midnight to open gifts. I'm considering this a gift, I don't care if it actually isn't.
