We all know that growing up, there were a billion toys our parents didn’t want us to play with.
The car window was one of these.

Gosh it was hard to say no to that voice.

Whenever I unrolled the window, my mother gave me these wise words:

So Uncle Richie was a great uncle I had…or…maybe it was a great great uncle…or…cousin…or something…who…liked to roll down the windows.

One day he was playing out the window, and–

 HONK HONK VROOM

Yeah.

So you can bet I spent my growing-up years in the car like this:

(My arms survived childhood.)

Wouldn’t you know it, I was at a work meeting and told everybody this story, and do you know what they said??

Uncle Richie:  Common Name?  Or VAST PARENTAL CONSPIRACY?  

You decide.
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