Have you Ever...

had one of those drives home where the incessant toddler babble just grated on your last nerve as if someone were pinching it repeatedly between the blades of a cuticle clipper?

We just arrived home from a lovely, if not hectic, Thanksgiving dinner at a fancy restaurant downtown. I've never had dinner at a restaurant for Thanksgiving, it always seemed too impersonal, not to mention the fact that I felt guilty about having someone serve me on Thanksgiving. But I must say I highly recommend it. No cooking, no cooking while thwarting all-too-curious little hands eager to touch whatever's on the stove, no cleaning, and the chance to sit with good company in a decadent setting and eat food that tastes as only it can when prepared by five star chefs. The only downside to the meal was the musical chairs act of which child needs to go outside and run around now because sitting quietly and patiently in a swanky restaurant is just too much to ask of someone with the impulse control of a puppy.

Anyway, dinner had reached that point of critical mass. You know the one of which I speak. The point where the toddler has decided that the only way to be comfortable in the high chair is to rotate 180 degrees in it repeatedly while wildly flinging his napkin like a helicopter blade over his head. And the preschooler has declared that she's, "DONE," at a volume high enough to drown out the ambient music while simultaneously coloring on her dress with the complimentary crayons. It didn't help that they both came down with the beginnings of a cold this afternoon. And in hind sight, it probably would've been best to keep them both home, but I've missed 2 of the last 4 Thanksgivings due to children's viruses, I was gonna' be damned if I'd miss one at a five star restaurant.

So, we packed up our, "peanuts," excused ourselves and piled in the car. The ride went something like this.

"Mommy, are we home yet?"

"No baby. We just got in the car. We have a while to go yet."

"We're far, far away at Thanksgiving." (Mind you, we're only 20 minutes from home.) "Is Ama going home to her house? And Uncle AJ is gonna' go to his house. And we'll go to our house."

"That's right Em's."

"Bug peezth." (Nicky requesting the toy bug he loves to play with in the car.)

"Mommy, may I wear my purse on my shoulder?"

"Yes baby. You may wear it however you like, it's yours."

(Having dropped the coveted bug.) "Oh NO! Oh NO! Bug! BUG! BBBUUUUGGG!"

"It's ok Nicky. You'll have to wait. Mommy can't reach the bug right now."

"NOOO! BUG!!! Peezth! BUG!"

(Doing some Nadia Comenici like moves, I retrieve the bug and hand it to Nick.)

"Ank ooo."

"You're welcome baby."

"Mommy, I'm pokus."

"What Emma?"

"I'm pokus."

"Who's pokus?"

"The rabbit from Frosty. I'm pokus."

"Oh. His name's hokus pokus baby."

"Yeah, pokus pokus. I go like this (wild gesturing), and I'm in the hat. And then the children get the hat, and then they put it on Frosty, and he says, 'Happy Birthday.' And then Karen takes him. And then...."

"OH NO!!!! BUG! BUG!" (Having dropped his bug again.)

And this was all before we even left the parking lot. It was a long ride home, babbling the whole way.....a very, very long ride home. With many a, "Ssssh. That's enough now! It's time to be quiet and try to get some nite nites." Yeah right, like that was gonna' work.

My ears and brain hurt if that's possible.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.