ladycar

My mom’s car is a ladycar. It’s pink and it honks when you open the door.

I tried to drive my aunt’s ladycar. It wouldn’t go unless I said please.

My cousin’s ladycar broke down, but it still had a mirror for her nails.

My sister’s ladycar has a perfume diffuser. It smells like her gym bag.

I tried to park my dad’s car. He said it’s not a ladycar, so it doesn’t count.

My neighbor’s ladycar has a seat that folds into a bed. It’s also a trash can.

My mom’s ladycar wouldn’t start until she promised it a caramel latte.

I asked my grandma if her car was a ladycar. She said, 'It is, but it also has a side mirror for my hair.'

My brother’s car is not a ladycar. It’s just a car. It doesn’t care about lattes or makeup.