Possum was looking over my shoulder today as I was on Pinterest and spotted this:
I knew I was doomed.
It's a Sicilian painted wagon, my ancestors' version of the bicycle rickshaw.* And it goes almost without saying that Possum will be talking incessantly about how much he wants and deserves one of these for weeks and months to come. I might as well get used to it now. It is better than having him sulk in silence, which is much harder to bear.
Unfortunately Possy has nothing to hope for — not because I'd mind driving him around Boston in that rig, but because I didn't buy even one PowerBall ticket for the $900 million drawing tonight. If no one wins and the pot goes over $1 billion, I will reconsider for Possum's sake. And I will let him pick the numbers, of course.
* To follow Possum's obsession with bicycle rickshaws backwards on this blog, click here.