•November 18, 2015•

By Mike Brothers
NP Managing Editor

Hanging on to the things that make me feel young

As far back as I can remember I have loved things that go fast.

From taking my little metal cars and trucks around the dirt track under the maple tree in my front yard to putting my foot to the floor of my hot rod 1965 Chevelle as a teenager, the thrill of the motor head remains inside me.

A couple of weeks ago Trevor’s two and a half year old twins were playing outside when I drove up.

Whenever I’m around, I let them “drive” my truck. One stands in the seat behind the wheel while the other sits in the passenger seat turning every switch and knob to the maximum.

After the drive, I was wrestling Lyla out of the truck as Landon walked around to the front and stopped.

I told him it was time to go inside, but he stayed.

“I want to see the motor,” Landon said, with his sister chiming in immediately.

Had they inherited my motor head affliction?     Login or Subscribe to read the rest of this story.