I sigh. "Yes?"
"Are we there yet?"
I groan, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel as I try to remain calm.
He's only four. He's only four. Don't lose it; he's only four.
I keep repeating my mantra, taking a deep breath and flipping the turn signal. My eyes flicker to the backseat before focusing on my right turn. I love my nephew to death, but there are times when I could throttle him.
This is one of those times.
He's been asking the same questions the entire four hour drive from Seattle.
"Not yet, Emmett."