These are the road rules your Father has for you as I look in the rearview mirror this glorious summer day. Rules for Good and not for Evil as we travel in this mighty suburban that handles so well, but also drinks gas like a football team at a drinking fountain. Listen to what I say, for you are my children and I am your Father.

When you sit next to your brother or sister, do not put your hands all over them as the heathens do. No, I say, do not. Put your hands in front of you; not to the left or to the right, but in your lap for this pleases me. Likewise with your feet. Keep them to yourself for they are yours and yours to be felt only by you.

Dear children, do not tease each other while we journey together. Sons, do not pull your sister’s pigtails, ponytail—whatever animal she may resemble at the time. No, this I say, do not. Do not make fun of Hanna Montana and especially Barbie. For they are dear to her and so are dear to me. This I will not tolerate for she screams the way she does when she discovers a spider in the shower. This, and high gas prices, are an abomination to me.

Daughter, do not tease your brothers because their hair cuts are six months behind the fashion curve. And do not be haughty about your superior understanding of fashion, for this too breaks my heart. Do not say, “I know clothing better than you. My pinks, they never clash,” for this is an arrogant spirit my dear daughter.

How I long to give you sweets and sugared waters while we travel but I have seen what you do with them and it breaks my heart. Though you eat part of your marshmallow or Gummy Bear or other sugary delight—you also wear part of them. I find them in your hair. In my hair. I find them on the bottom of your shoes and on this manly steering wheel. I find them under the hood.

And when I buy you hamburgers from the swift drive-thru window, please do not tell me you won’t eat them because they have buried deep in the bun one measly pickle. How this burns my charbroiled bacon! Do not sit there, full of sorrow. Do not shriek! No, this I tell you. Be grateful for what you have. Rejoice! Remove the offense and place it in the wrapper and then—Very Important!—lick your tiny and nimble fingers. Do not wipe them on the seat for they are not treated to fight stains!