“Nice little machine you have.”

My ‘little blue wonder car’ always draws attention.

I turned to greet the smiling eyes of an older gentleman in a plaid shirt and straw fishing hat, walking toward me with a cane.  We were in the shaded parking area in front of the assisted living facility where my sister lives.  I assumed this gentleman was out for a stroll.

“My little car is 18 years old…almost as old as you and me.”

“How old are You?” he asked me, tilting his head to encourage my honesty.

“I’m 63,” I sheepishly replied, knowing I was going to be enormously bested…

“I turned 100 years old a few days ago.  I’m visiting my sister who turned 99, two days before that.”

I ceremoniously walked to him and reached out my hand for a shake from a man who had reached 100.  Then I watched in awe as he got into the car next to mine and drove away.

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