You kids have three iPads, two DVD players, and a giant bag of comic books in the car with you and you’re complaining? When I was your age, our road trip entertainment was one of two cassettes my parents insisted on playing over and over: John Denver’s Greatest Hits or Reba McIntire’s Whoever’s In New England. Talk about praying for death. It didn’t matter how enthralling your Choose Your Own Adventure book was, there was just no way to drown that crap out. And I should add that, as a parent driving down an endless stretch of highway, you’re generally prepared for complaints about how long it’s been, or moans of “are we there yet?”. But, like The Spanish Inquisition, nobody expects a screaming demand that they find a pet store immediately to enable the purchase of a pufferfish. Because, before this very moment, that’s never happened in the history of human experience.