As Donny took Lizzie by the hand and led her back to their SUV, he heard Nathan say, "Hey there, buddy. Tracker in a mechanical pencil. How do you know if it's still working or not?"
"Mom, I've gotta go," eight-year-old Josh sang out loud and clear from the backseat, and his mother rolled her eyes.
"Told you we should have made him use the bathroom when we stopped for gas," her husband murmured. "He does this every time."
"Can you hold it until we get there?"
"No."
She sighed.
"Fine. Honey, pull over, please. This won't take long."
The father, biting back a chuckle, maneuvered the car to a stop on the shoulder, and Josh hopped out to relieve himself.
"Mom! Dad!" they heard Josh screech moments later, and quickly exited the car.
"What, honey?"
Josh, trembling so hard he couldn't s
