Angels and Demons

Have I mentioned on here yet  that on our recent cross-country odyssey,  Audrey and Olivia were absolute angels on the drive?  They spent  54 hours together in the back seat, sitting side by side across the long flat expanses of Iowa, Nebraska and Wyoming, TWICE,  without a single bicker or complaint.  Not one problem.  Not one whine about space issues or breathing on each other or fighting about windows or emergency potty stops.   They were perfect.  We could not have asked for them to be any better behaved than they were.  So how is it that those same two kids, sitting in much roomier and more comfortable separate bucket seats, cannot make the 25 minute drive from Salt Lake to Layton without pitching a very long, very loud, screaming, crying, moaning, FIT over whether one of them slobbered on the other one on purpose or on accident, and whether or not said slobberer actually apologized in a genuine enough manner, and if the slobberee showed adequate acceptance of the supposed apology?

First off, how does one child slobber on another one from across the divide that separates bucket seats in a mini van?  It's not like they were sitting on top of each other.  And secondly, why does it have to go on and ON and ON, to the point of insanity?

Makes me realize what a miracle our little trip was.  We must have had a guardian angel along for the ride.  Seriously, what are the chances of a thirteen year old and an eight year old getting along so well for so long on such a long trip in such a small space?

Fortunately, our ride tonight was a short one, we survived, and the slobbering incident has been all but forgotten, at least until the next car ride.

  It probably helped that all I could do was laugh at them, and I didn't add to the angst by throwing myself into the middle of it.  Maybe I should try that strategy more often.