"He won't think he's so cool when he sees your sign," Jordan said happily.

Jordan was right. Nicky was furious. He stared at the sign, glanced down at his shirt, and turned beet-red. He shook his fist at us,

just as our car suddenly changed lanes and charged ahead of them.

The triplets were practically rolling off the seats with laughter as I racked my brain, trying to think of something to do to distract them. For the next few minutes, they turned down every single car game I could think of. I guess "Get Your Brother" was more fun.

They held up the Batman sign about five more times during the next hour — every time the two cars came side by side. Nicky was so mad, I expected to see smoke coming out of his ears!

At last we reached the halfway point. "This is it," Mrs. Pike said cheerfully.

I have never been so glad to see a Howard Johnson's in my life. Everyone piled out of the car, and after a quick trip to the restrooms, we all met at the take-out counter. Mallory and Stacey were ordering ice-cream cones for Claire and Margo, while Nicky was struggling to make up his mind.

"Get Cherries Jubilee," Mal suggested. "Or Rocky Road."

"Don't get Rum Raisin," Margo said. "It looks like vanilla ice cream with flies."

Stacey and I led the kids to a small picnic area while Mr. and Mrs. Pike sat at the counter and ordered coffee. Stacey was the only one

of us without an ice-cream cone — because of her diabetes — so she was munching on an apple.

"Tough trip/' she said, and sighed. "It's a good thing Nicky was in a separate car from the triplets or it would have been World War Three."

I nodded. For some reason Nicky and the triplets manage to fight over everything, and I noticed that Nicky was sitting as far away from them as possible.

"How's your Pistachio Crunch?" Stacey asked me.

"Fantastic." I used to feel guilty about eating ice cream and candy in front of Stacey, but she handles her diabetes so well, I hardly think about it anymore.