Brett was restless. The back seat contained a cooler that took up not quite half of the space. Brett’s legs were long and gangly. He stretched his arms across the back of the seat, touching the window frames on both sides.
Bored, he cracked open the cooler. Mom’s radar ears didn’t miss a thing.
“Close it, Brett. We just had breakfast an hour ago.”
Deep sigh. “When’s lunch?”
“Three hours. Read. Play a game, Sleep. No more whining.”
“I hate this.”
“Not as much as I do.”
Lunch was over. Brett sighed.
“What’s for supper?”