Even if we stopped and got something else, one of them would still get home and feel left out with just one biscuit there. I just hoped the bus would be late and I could make sure there was two of something….and there was, but on THAT DAY, Carmen didn’t eat my son’s sausage biscuit. It was mean, but I have to admit I did it…. Don’t judge me, pray for me. And please, whatever you do, don’t try to eat my kid’s food.
I had to find this guy a motel room. Figure out a way to get him some money for dinner and breakfast, because I felt like those were on us. And, of course, I had to convince the quarry plant manager to let us leave the truck on their property until the following morning, and to help the driver get to a motel near a place where he could get something to eat. — In the end, the quarry manager himself helped the guy out and drove him, because no other big rig driver with a trailer full of rock was going to be of any help… driving through the middle of a town?