So when we finally sighed enough to blow the house down with our frustrations, realized we were Goin' Nowhere, and Trev finally convinced his Daddy that now was the time to fetch the tuna from the cooler that was still pinned to the top of the truck, (as we had run out of space for our day trip and had to use the second story... I told you we packed enough for a week when we go for a day!) he finally (lol) gets the bowl of tuna out of the cooler, opens it up, and screams in vexation, "What!?! No Sandwich? Tuna only?"
It's like he expected a perfectly formed and fresh sandwich to rise out of this small, round bow.
It was a welcome reprieve from our aggravation to DH and I; we cackled and howled unabashedly.
Little Son was a little embarrassed, not our intent, but still the comedy was welcome.
'Music's on (Bob Marley at the moment)
and mellowed conversation.
All's well, then.