There was alot of driving yesterday, going up to the Volcano. Alot of "cooped up in the car while it's pouring down rain" time. Alot of screaming, fidgeting, not keeping hands to self time from the back seat. I had had enough.
Mom: "BOYS! Stop it right now! I'm at the end of my rope!"
Colby: "End of your rope? What does that mean?"
Mom: "It means I can't take anymore!"
Quinn: "What part of the rope do you normally hold on to?"
((sigh)) I guess I have to admit that I live my life at the end of my rope.
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