you’re probably in a typical american family if your road trips look like this: 4 children, one mini-van, two parents, one cooler full of snacks and food, various games, books, tapes, etc.
you’re a [Myfamilyname] if that same road trip includes assigned seats in the car for each child, and a manila folder on each seat containing a highlighter, a map of the entire length of the trip, and several blown-up views of segments of the map.
the idea behind this arrangement, if you are a [Myfamilyname], would be to help you not ask “are we there yet” every 20 minutes (or “where are we?” as a means of circumventing the first question). the highlighters are so you can mark your progress as you drive along. the maps would be explained in detail at the beginning of trip: the starting point, the destination, the route (possibly marked in another color of highlighter), the fact that maps have little red numbers indicating the miles between cities, and how the green mile markers on the highway work. for your convenience, you would be instructed to assume that you are travelling at 60 mph. (yes, remember those days? when highways had speed limits under 75?). there will be no earthly reason to ask where you are, how far you have left to go, or any other devious derivation of the same question.
if memory serves me correctly, the system actually worked for this [Myfamilyname] – i mean we did learn the basics of maps (we’re all quite good with maps now, actually), and, for the most part, we didn’t ask the “are we there yet” questions. because i was 11 years old, it wasn’t that big of a deal for me, but now that i think about it, it must have been quite a feat for my youngest brother (age 4 or 5).
which is probably why he didn’t actually read the map; he just kept leaning over to me, showing me his map, and whispering “where are we now?”
so really, it was like a stroke of delegation-mastermind genius on my parents’ part — they didn’t get the annoying questions; i did.