My dad owned a shop when I was younger and used to always tell me about his car stories with his buddies. One day he pulled up to the house with a 60s Mustang convertible that was an absolute pile of parts. I asked him what he was going to do with that piece of junk and he said fix it. I laughed in all my 7year old glory and said, sure you are, not that pile of dookie. Low and behold if I didn't almost pee on myself (remember I was 7) when about 4 months later he opened the garage and out rolled a brand new (at least to me) looking Mustang convertible. I'm talking paint, interior, drivetrain, everything shining like it just came off a dealers lot. That was one of the moments I knew I would be hooked on cars after that.
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