Spinning the Pilot Wheel

Waddle-scoot! Slipping under the front door crack into the crisp morning air, I trundled down the block straight to the corner bodega! Parked right beside the fruit crates was a vintage fiberglass rocket kiddie ride painted in candy-apple red. Resting right inside the low cockpit was a chunky yellow plastic steering wheel. Naturally, the chief burger pilot had to take the controls! I planted my round lower bun firmly onto the ribbed metal footstep, tilted all the way forward, and smacked a wheel spoke with the flat tip of my sturdy red tongue. Clack-whirr! The bright yellow wheel spun in a dizzy, clattering circle right beneath my olive antenna. Hurr-hurr! I gave a muffled chuckle, steering full speed ahead!