that killed this cat –

at least not my kid’s curiosity.  Cats are safe around the kid, at least when it comes to cars.  Kid drives this car:

It’s a decent car for being as old as the kid, but the kid barely knows anything about it.* For example:

If anyone wants to buy a ’95 BMW 540i, 4-cylinder V8, I will happily sell you my car.

It does not have a “4-cylinder V8.”  Trust me on this.

• it supposedly has working A/C.  Kid hasn’t tested it.
• It has trip computer

kid has no idea what it does or how it works.

• It has the usual BMW mpg gauge under the speedo.  It’s kind of an instant estimate gauge.  Kid has seen it drop to 9, and has therefore determined that it is a 9 mpg car.
• I spent 10 minutes in the car and had discovered the tool kit, the different spare, the dipstick, the tilt-on-reverse mirrors, all sorts of shit.  In that 10 mins I did not learn how the computer works.  I damn sure would have if it were my  V8-powered first car.
• I would have also washed and turtlewaxed that bitch on day one, no matter how bad the paint was.  But that’s me.  My cars are trophies, not expensive entitlements placeholders until you can get that Mustang.

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*this is not quite the same as my first car.  In my case, and in my own defense, NO ONE knew anything about these pieces of shit.

This does not excuse the whole “fill the transmission fluid to the top, like it’s a red solo cup” episode.