Potholes Are The Devil

I grew up on a dirt road in the back woods of Southern Missouri.  Going to “town” was an event and for my family it required all four of us to load up in the truck for the weekly outing.  This was before the day of club cabs, crew cabs and SUVs.  There weren’t three rows of seats for my big brother and I to fight over – nope, my assigned seating was right next to my Daddy and thus right next to the steering wheel.  Everyone else in the family refused that seat due to straddling the gear shift and my Dad’s seemingly endless stream of flatulence, but in my opinion it was the best seat in the house!  Dad always let me steer on the dirt roads – oh, what a thrill it was. 

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