I thought the “are we there yet?” repetition during roadtrips was a family comedy cliche, meant to garner laughs in movies starring Chevy Chase or Ice Cube but not lauded in a lot of real life truth. Like with most everything else, though, my 6 year old son has proven me wrong.
The entire way there, this is what we heard. “Mommy, how much longer?”
“I don’t know.”
“Give me a number!”
“I can’t say an exact number. There’s traffic and a lot of things to consider.”
“Daddy, how much longer?”
And it went on like this for the two hours it took to get there, which could have been half a day for all the fuss from the backseat.
Then on the way home, “I want to go home! Why aren’t we home yet?”
“We’ll be home soon.”
“Mommy, how much longer?”
“Around 30 minutes or so.”
“Daddy, tell me exactly how much longer.”
Between Abby’s incessant blabbering and random ear-splitting attacks of crying, Buzz’s instigating, and Jedi’s neverending are we there yet? loop, peaceful and quiet scene-gazing car rides just aren’t what they used to be. Namely, they are anything but peaceful and quiet. Where’s Ice Cube when you need him?