Yesterday morning on my way to work at about 6:45 (took Grady to an extra day of school to keep he and Liam apart), I saw a sorry sight on the side of the road.
An old pickup truck with wooden slatted sides reaching up about six feet from the sides of the bed was on the side of the road. The bed was stacked perfectly with as much split firewood as could possible fit. It was an expert job. Well, this poor guy had a flat tire.
He was standing with his hat off, looking at the tire. I know what was racing through his mind.
1) Why the hell did I load this old thing with so much wood?
2) Do I have a spare?
3) Why the hell did I take out the jack to fit in that last couple logs?
4) Is my AAA current?
5) I'm gonna have to unload this 2.5 cords of wood right here on the side of the busy highway, then load the goddamn stuff up again. There goes my early start.
Poor guy.
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