There is nothing like the loud sigh of a pre-pubescent little girl in the back seat of a vehicle and the sound of a small clenched fist hitting a seat to bring a nice sun-filled drive to a screeching halt. All that followed by the exclamation: "Toronto! Why are we going to Toronto?" as I turn East onto the QEW from Burlington.
When we got off, a few exits later, she was relieved. Then disappointed. "Why aren't we going to Toronto?"
Oh, the drama of it all.