No Junk in the Trunk

After dinner this evening Lana and I headed to Walmart to pick up a few groceries. We were walking through the parking lot when a minivan in front of us opened its side door to reveal an interior that was less than tidy. Lana literally gasped when she saw it and yelled, "Oh! JMo! They got junk in that car!" I nodded in agreement and attempted to hustle her past the offensive car and its within-earshot occupants, but Lana would not be deterred. "Junk, JMo! They got JUNK!!"

We made it into the store without offending anyone else and enjoyed checking out the selection of goldfish (real ones), sunglasses, and winter coats. At one point Lana walked around modeling both a faux-fur trimmed coat and a pair of Pooh sunglasses that she picked out, declaring, “I look pretty!” to anyone that walked by. By the time we returned to our car and I opened the trunk, I’d completely forgotten about the messy minivan. Lana apparently had not. She took one look inside the car and said in her most official and approving tone, “We don’t got junk in our trunk.”