Cheese Car

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https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=14C3zwwq9PZ093zVAsKxeVWUB5KWTUAGq
By Angie Bromeland

“Well, there’s always room for improvement, Quinn,” Dad said. He was holding the car I had carved. “But it’s really quite good!” He smiled at me, then asked, “What is it?”
“Well, at first I was going to make it look like a tram, but I changed my mind. It’s a wedge of cheese!” We laughed together.
Since I strived for perfection, I took the car outside and used sandpaper to remove every rough spot. I weighed the car. The numbers flashed at me: 101 grams. It needed to be heavier. I grabbed the drill from Dad’s workshop. He had taught me how to use it last summer. Then I jammed the car in a vice grip so it wouldn’t move while I worked on it. I drilled a hole in the back of the car to fill with weights. But what could I use that would be both heavy and small? Pebbles weren’t the right shape. Marbles didn’t weigh enough. That’s when Dad came out to check on me. I told him what I was doing. He held his chin in his hand thoughtfully, then said, “I have just the thing!” But instead of going to his tool chest, he opened his fishing tackle box. He handed me a container of lead weights.
“Perfect!” I yelled as I crammed them inside the car. Dad was already back inside. I found the yellow paint and painted my car to look like cheese. I added the wheels and I weighed it again. It was perfect. Our driveway had a little bit of a slant, so I set the car at the top and gave it a small push. It sped away. I laughed. I had proved it wasn’t a sham: cheese had speed. I knew the judges would approve.

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