Both kids fuss and whine loudly from the back seat. I stretch to grab their portable DVD player, insert a disk, and fast forward through what feels like twenty-seven previews. All the while, I’m attempting to hush and comfort them, “I know. I know. We’re almost home. “
It’s hour thirteen of a fourteen-hour car trip. “The last hour is always the worse,” I complain quietly to Mister as the kids settle into watching Disney’s Baby McDonald video.
“Are you ready to switch yet? I’m more than happy to drive now!” I tease. Mister laughs. No one wants the taxing job of entertaining the kids in the back seat from the passenger’s seat.
The song Old MacDonald starts to play from the DVD’s speaker. Bunder joins in, followed by Kiki. As so often happens with young children, a tense moment spontaneously becomes joyful.
See for yourself. Pardon the raw footage. I grabbed the closest device, my iPhone. Oh, and don’t worry. Kiki’s wearing frosting on her nose. I swear it’s not boogers.
Mother Ruckus 