For anyone suffering from some form of delusion that my household is always as peaceful as a sunset over an ocean, allow me to shatter that dream.
I really don’t know what I was thinking. Yes, I had a book and Downton Abbey Season 2 to return to the library. But why did I think it would turn out any better than the last dozen times we left in disgrace?
One hour, two crafts, and about a million dirty looks later, I slunk back to the car with one grumpy child and one child screaming “I WANTED TO PUSH THE BUTTON!!!!!!!!” (You know, the Automatic/Handicap door button, the one that bestows a thrill unrivaled for the lucky person who gets to push it.) He continued screaming as we drove home and through lunch, when he decided that opening the garage door once wasn’t enough, he needed to do it at least once more.
He’s now napping peacefully, but I’m not sure I’ll be taking him back there any time soon.