Papa Mint gave my son a hot scooter for his third birthday.
And I don't mean "hot" like racing stripes and an ultra cool paint finish.
I mean "hot" like he found it. In the alley behind his house sometime back in November or December.
To be fair, he propped it up against his fence and waited for the original owner to return to claim it. But - several weeks later - it still remained right where he left it.
So, my father moved it into his garage, spent some time cleaning it up (mostly reversing some weather damage and removing baked on tape) and gave it to his grandson.
Of course, Banner loves it.
Granted, I'm sure the original owner either forgot where they left it or simply didn't care about it anymore, and my father did give them ample time to reclaim it. It just cracks me up that I have conversations like this one with my dad at my son's birthday party:
Me: "OMG, dad! You got Ban a scooter?"
Dad: "No, I found a scooter in the alley behind my house and thought Banner might like it."
Me: "Wait. Slow down. What?"
Dad: "Yeah, maybe he shouldn't ride it at Papa Mint's house. You know, just in case the original owner recognizes it."