FARMER DAISY DROVE home from her fields. Her truck hit a pothole.
“Ow!” complained Rollie, the truck’s front wheel. “These holes sure are terrible!”
BAM! The other front tire, Clutch, hit one, too.
“I’m tired of it,” Rollie whined. “Bumpy roads day in and day out.”
“Don’t forget dusty,” coughed Spokes, a rear wheel.
“What I wouldn’t give for smooth, slick roads,” Rollie said. “Perfect roads would make for such a perfect life.”
Rollie took a gander at the countryside that stretched before him. He sighed. Bad roads everywhere.
Daisy pulled into her garage. She washed
