The highway stretched endlessly before me, mile markers blurring together as my two kids dozed in the back seat. Emma, my seven-year-old, had finally stopped asking, “Are we there yet?” about an hour ago, and my four-year-old son, Tyler, clutched his stuffed cat, Mr. Whiskers, against the window. Six hours of driving from Ohio to Massachusetts seemed worth it for Thanksgiving with family. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself every time my lower back screamed for a break.
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