“Are we there yet?”
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The story of a family
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For my Dad on his 60th Birthday
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“Are we there yet?” You wondered when you asked Mum to be your wife.
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“Are we there yet?” You asked the estate agent on the journey to view your first home as a married couple.
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“Are we there yet?!” Mum screamed on the way to the hospital when I was two weeks late.
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“Nana are we there yet?” I asked eagerly on the journey to meet my baby sister, H.
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“Dad are we there yet?” H asked in the banana car as we drove to the countryside listening to The Spice Girls and The Who.
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“Are we there yet?” You worried as you quit your job to set up your own company with Mum.
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“Are we there yet?” Grandad asked as you drove him to our new family home.
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“Are we there yet?” Nana asked when we went to see H’s first dance show.
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“Are we there yet?!” You said clutching onto the passenger seat like your life depended on it, when I took you for a whizz in my Fiat Punto.
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“Are we there yet?” Mum asked me as we drove in the Blue Discovery to my Uni Halls.
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“Are we there yet?” The taxi driver asked as we tried to find H’s new apartment with her boyfriend in Gibraltar.
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“Are we there yet?” Grandad asked on the tube during his first visit to see me in London.
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“Are we there yet?” Said no one, as we breezed down the road with the roof down in your totally impractical car.
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“Is this over yet?” We all silently screamed as lockdown continued.
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“Are we there yet?” H said wide-eyed as she arrived at her perfect wedding venue.
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“Are we there yet?” You wondered when you turned 60.
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The journey is half the fun....
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By Rebecca Archer. Follow her on IG @wandering_in_heels
