The wheels spun against the red counter top and the truck slammed into a tall glass of lemonade.
“You don’t stop messing with that stupid truck and I’ll flush it down the toilet,” Kathryn glared at me—she meant it. I slowly rolled my truck away from her glass, if the food didn’t come soon I might die. And now I had no way to distract myself.
I stared at my Styrofoam cup full of milk. How come I had to drink milk anyway? Kathryn got lemonade, Mom got sprite and Dad got root beer. And I got a glass of stupid milk.
Kathryn tapped her blue finger nails against the table, waiting for her cell phone to chime. She was hungry too, we had been in the car for over five hours, with a bag of carrots and some raisins Mom had packed to sustain ourselves. And now we were stuck in this lame restaurant while dad was trying to get the car fixed and Mom was outside on phone with Aunt Lou.
But the worst of it was waiting for over thirty minutes in the sticky booth for my hamburger. I was about to march in the back and cook it myself.
I slowly pulled a sugar packet out of the brown box by the ketchup bottle while Kathryn texted madly. I bit the end off the white packet and brought the milk down below the table. I emptied my fifth packet in my milk when Mom startled me.
“No food yet?” she asked.
“Nope,” I said shoving the emptied packets on the floor. Mom sat down and a waitress headed for our table with four massive burgers and a mountain of fries.
“Finally,” Kathryn muttered. I took a swig of milk, just as the waitress set our food on the table… the sugar tingled my teeth, just as Dad walked into the restaurant.
“Well Tyler, looks like you won’t have to push us to the Grand Canyon,” Dad slapped my back. I choked on the milk most of it spraying over the hot plate in front of Kathryn. She looked at her plate of soggy hamburger and milky fries. She didn’t say a word as she picked up the yellow truck and walked to the ladies room.