Every Three-Year-Old Should Have A Mustang

Meet the coolest three-year-old in southern Minnesota.

Yes, of course she drives a mustang. What three-year-old doesn't?

She may or may not have gotten her bright red convertible from her Daddy's friend who ordered it for her late one night after too much fun at the bar.

It's the shiniest car in her little town and she fits right in with the local golf-cart gang. (What? Your little town doesn't have a golf-cart gang? You are missing out.)

She even was generous enough to let me drive. 

As you can see, I am an excellent mentor for her with my beer in hand.

But, let's be honest, she actually might have forced me to drive, because she has already (three days in) declared herself a terrible driver. According to her, she would much rather walk. 

What more can you expect from a girl who likes her bike helmet and her safety bell more than the trike itself? She's officially Miss Safety Pants.

But, unfortunately, my butt is too big to really make this little beauty look good.

 And Blake Man might be a talented little baby, but he can't quite reach the pedals yet.

Thank goodness his sister loves him enough to give him a ride home.

Plus, watermelon was a really good bribe for driving the car back to the garage. :)

Really, this is what summer is all about - a happy baby and a juicy slice of watermelon.

Well, and Greg's Meats & Oak Meadow brats on the grill. Next time you drive down 52, you must stop and pick up a packet of Mushroom Swiss brats.  

Best. thing. ever.

XoXo