Kenna sits in the very back row of our minivan. Sometimes she’s hard to hear over road noise, sister noise, and because of her generally quiet voice. The other day she said something, which I didn’t hear. I asked her to repeat herself and she did, but I still didn’t hear. I told her I’d have to have her repeat it when we stopped and it was quieter.
When we stopped, I asked her to say it again – she gave me a disgusted look, rolled her eyes and said: “Mom, we already had this con-bersation before.”
