It won't shock anyone who knows me (or who doesn't but who reads this blog and avoids meeting me because they've decided I'm nuts) that, after making Jack "hold it" for a good twenty miles so we could get home, I jumped out of the car, keys in hand to let him in the house, and got completely absorbed in my garden on the way. I ooohed and aaahed and PICKED A CHERRY TOMATO TO EAT (...and the crowd goes wild! Victory!) and noted the climbing cucumbers and was so absorbed that the child almost wet his pants and was practically crying. Finally, Whit, who drove for hours and hours and hours and was very nudgy, screamed (a little aggressively), "HONEY! LET HIM IN THE HOUSE BEFORE HE PEES ON YOUR TOMATOES!!!"
Not nice, but he definitely fought fire with fire. And gave Jack a dangerous, dangerous idea.