Yesterday afternoon. I'm sitting at the picnic table outside of my appartment building, reading Tunisia-related stuff in a very calm fashion as I wait for my parents to arrive.

I hear a car getting closer so I lift my head. There is a hedge that blocks the view so I can't see the street, but I can take a look at a window and see a reflection.

I see a red car, and my first thought is, this is my father's red Cabrio.
Second thought, as I see the car pull into my driveway, is this car is way bigger than a Cabrio.

It was the red convertible Mustang, which I've been anxiously waiting for my father to finish fixing up for months now so I can keep it for a week and pretend I'm cool.

It's not quite ready just yet; my Dad just figured it would be a good thing to use it for a long ride in order to identify any problems that might still require fixing.

I did drive it a little, and yes, it was quite satisfying, thank you. Unlike the above-mentioned Cabrio which I, um, basically, disliked.

Je dois confesser que j'ai laissé échapper un "wôôôô" accompagné d'un sourire épais quand j'ai parti l'auto et que j'ai entendu le bruit du moteur. J'ai l'intention d'aller m'acheter de l'oestrogène en pilules à la pharmacie tout à l'heure !

I got pictures in order to prove that I haven't been making up that I'll-have-a-Mustang-to-use story. And also to start pretending I'm cool right away...