One of us is bull-headed, not mentioning names, but it’s not me. She said, “I’m going to take the scoot to get us a breakfast tortilla. Call Manuel’s and order it.”
Out the door she went. By the time I hobbled out the door and down the steps, she had the trailer opened, her scoot out and running! (I don’t move too fast.)
And, she was gone. She did come back, in about 20 minutes; with an oh-so-tasty Manuel’s tortilla. So big that we always split one.
She said, “I don’t want to make you feel bad, but that felt great!” (the ride)
No, I don’t feel bad. Well, I hurt, but my heart is happy.
The Vespa didn’t get an outing, but I ran it for a bit. It’s a start.
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The "back story" on this: Joan gets "valet service" with her scoot. When we go out on them, I get hers out; when we get back, I put hers away. There is "a way" they each go into and out of the trailer (our portable garage), and it takes a bit of muscle and finesse. She showed me that she is certainly capable of getting her own scoot in and out. Well, I never doubted that she could, I've been protective - didn't want her to get hurt muscling that scoot around. Yeah, she's tough.
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