Squeaks of protest

Yesterday I risked shopping in the sales.

To buy WD40.

It turns out that taking part in a nerf war with family (looks like a new tradition) in a park with a HUGE puddle across the path, and discovering that wheels are the ultimate vehicle for getting through such obstacles unscathed while sniggering at people gingerly tiptoeing their way around the edge 10 metres away is a recipe for squeaks of protest from my poor wheels.




So while I work at the unglamorous task of un-squeaking the grumpy wheelie parts, I will snigger quietly to myself at just how much fun making that discovery was.


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