When driving a car on such a gorgeous day, there was no recourse but to roll all the windows down and sing at the top of one’s lungs, and Greg did so. “Non te deseram, non fraudabo te! Non infidelem, et non te deserant! Non te calamus, nolo dicere vale! Et ego nolo fallere laedere…”
Brigid, curled up in the far corner of the passenger seat looking vaguely like a long-dead spider, said, “Did you really just rick-roll me in Latin?”
“What’s ‘rick-roll’?” said Greg.
“You know,” said Brigid, “I could yank that wheel and run us into oncoming traffic. It would be easy. EASY! And no jury would ever convict me!”
“How can you be so cranky on a day like this?” said Greg.