Highway to Hell

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I sat next to my dad in our car as we drove down the highway. We left for California a couple days after my dad lost his job, and it was now our third day on the road. We were hoping to be there by the end of the week.
"Hey, Dad?" I asked, pulling my earbuds out for the first time in a few hours.
"Oh my god, the music addict lives!" He said teasingly.
"Ha ha. I have a question," I said. "Shoot."
"Do other people in the family know I exist?" I asked, looking up at him.
Dad sighed and pulled into the parking lot of a small diner.
"C'mon, Bandit. I'll tell you over a burger and fries."

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