The post office is closing in like 10 minutes (don't even get me started on the very short hours of country post offices). I have packages that I would have liked to be in the mail yesterday in the front seat. I have managed to get only Maddie and Tim out to the car, but not buckled up. Molly yells half way to the car "I gotta pee!" and darts back into the house. This is the slowest child in America, I promise. I wait. How long can this take? I mean you pee, wipe, and run...NOT THAT HARD. My patience is seriously being tested.....Tim is still standing in the van NOT GETTING BUCKLED.....Molly should have been done by now.....So I say "Timothy, tell Molly if she doesn't get her tail to this car I'm gunna snap!" (Yes, I still say snap. I know I shouldn't have brought that word out of the 90's, but I did, so there.) so he turns and yells out of the car door "Siiiiiiiiiis!!.... Siiiiiiiiis! Mama! said! come! on!" I honk the horn. Tim yells...