“In that case,” Dad counters, “I’m going with you.”
Whoa, hang on! That wasn’t part of the contract. Who threw that little nugget into the mix? I mean, it’s mortifying enough to have a parent or anyone that ancient accompany you anywhere. But when you’re fighting for a few measly scraps of peace and sanity to escape the torture chamber of a non-voluntary road trip, then the gloves just have to come off.
“But … you can’t!” I shriek.
Dad gives me an indignant look, as I reach for the only excuse at hand.
“You have to babysit,” I tick my head toward the urn. “He’s too little to stay by himself.”
“He’ll be fine,” Dad reasons.
“Are you sure? What if the motel burned down? Or got robbed? You’re responsible for getting William to his final resting place. And if something happens, well … I s
