Bribery

When I was 14, my grandfather gave my father an old '66 Ford LTD. It was the most shit green you can imagine and it was badly rusted. It was beautiful and it was my ticket to freedom.
One Saturday, my mother was harping on my father's case about helping her clean house and my father refused to do it. A game he wanted to see Very badly was on and he simply was not going to help. It probably would have been easier for him to do what she asked because she raised so much hell, I don't think he even heard the first quarter, half...whatever they say to keep time.

"Hey Daddy...I'll clean the bathroom for you if you let me drive the LTD around the yard," I offered.
"Around the yard?" he asked in his deep baritone voice, as if he could not believe my suggestion. "What do you want to do that for?"
"I just want to drive," I replied. Now, please consider that our yard was a typical middle class neighborhood yard you might see anywhere in small town America. It wasn't a small yard but it wasn't a yard that you could easily maneuver a large LTD in either.
"You'll clean the bathroom for me if I let you drive it?" He asked again to make sure he had the offer right.
"Yep," I confirmed.
"You'll clean it up real good?" He asked warily.
"The best it's ever been cleaned," I proclaimed.

"Okay." He shrugged his shoulders and walked off. "Virginia Gail! Kimberly's going to clean the bathroom for me!" He yelled as he turned and winked at me.

So I clean the bathroom in record time, unable to believe my good fortune! I was fixing to put the pedal to the metal baby! It was on!

So after about 30 minutes later, I grabbed the keys and ran out the door. I sat in the car before cranking it in order to savor the moment. It smelled old and musty. The material in the seats felt as if they were beginning to dry rot. I pushed the key into the ignition and tentatively put it in drive. I could feel the power thrumming through the old car as it rattled. I tested the accelerator. I floored it.

For sixty minutes I went around and around our quaint back yard. The driveway was my red light and it was the only time I stopped. Each time I circled, I could see my father through the window, sitting in his tight, white underwear, focusing intently on his ballgame. His head was resting on his hand in deep concentration. His jaw was slack and his mouth was open. He was clearly not bothered by the fact I was creating ditches in his yard with every turn I made. My joyride was over when I decided to get in touch with my inner Evel Kineval. While traveling forward going at least thirty miles an hour (in the front yard) I threw the car into reverse. It made a horrific noise before slowly crawling to a stop. I had broken the transmission and the green LTD was no more.

What did my father have to say about it? He said I didn't clean around the bottom of the toilet good enough and mother was going to make him do it over.

By the way, the car sat in the front yard for three months.