Occasionally he would hit a rut too hard and a crate would tip over, breaking a few bottles and spraying soda all over us just to make the ride more enjoyable.
It was about two o'clock in the morning and cold as..."ICE!" shouted Michael, "We're sitting on huge blocks of ice covered with sawdust!"
"Shiver me rear-end!" I hollered over the ruckus, "No wonder my fandoodee is frozen stiff."
Believe it or not, our benefactor had graciously given us the privilege of riding in his refrigerator! For SEVEN long hours no less. That's how long it took him to get us back home instead of the normal three hours. For seven long, dark, cold and noisy hours we sat on blocks of ice with visions of freezing into lolly-pops.
I tell ya, be the time we did get home, Micheal and I ran straight to Mom's oven and turned that baby on full throttle. Whipping open the door, we poked our rear-ends inside and left them there until they thawed out.