And once again, Barnabas gets behind the wheel and someone nearly loses an eye. I realize it was intentional, but it's like every time the man drives, there's an accident. Coincidence? I think not.
As fashionable as the ultra-mini may have been in 1969, I look at the vast expanse of Carolyn's legs, made more extensive by the beige shoes, and then I look at her super short yellow fuzzy coat and it somehow gives me the impression that Carolyn let he house clad only in a bulky pajama top. Somehow . . . somehow, I don't think that was the intended effect.