ON MY first day as a trucker's helper, the driver was pushing the big rig hard to get our load of chickens to market before it closed. Suddenly we hit a slick spot in the road, lost control, and slammed into a ditch.
The truck turned over, sending hundreds of crates flying. As we crawled from the wreck unhurt, we saw frenzied, flapping, squawking chickens everywhere. "What do we do now?" I asked. "Well, son," the trucker replied, "first we thank the Lord for sparing our lives."
"Then what?"
"Then we curse like hell."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
