All good things must come to an end, so today we finally fulfilled the Toddler's wish and returned "to Picksburgh." It's been two days since she started asking to go home, so she was more than a little excited this morning to get all packed up and jump in the car for the long drive back.

We've been doing that six-hour trek back and forth for a very long time, so we have it down to a science. There are very particular places that we always stop, and even now that we have a Toddler to contend with, we have continued with our routine. Portable DVD players are MAGICAL, and Alexis manages to get more than her fill of movies as we drive along.

There does come a point, however, where she takes a break from movie watching and thinks she really needs the window open. I suppose she learned it from the grown-ups who like to blast cold air for a few seconds while cruising down the highway, but she has added her own twist by just plain wanting to leave the window open for a long time. While we drive 70 mph down the road. In the middle of winter. In the cold. And today? There was rain added into the mix.

I sat and shivered as Alexis happily stuck her hand out the window for a good ten miles just West of Columbus. She was cheerily telling Baby Shell all about the wind and didn't seem to mind the rain pelting her chubby little hand. Or, maybe she did, because she reached down to Baby Shell's foot and pulled off one of her socks. It was a sock that used to belong to Alexis, a hideous bright pink one with what is supposed to be Dora's ugly face on it. Alexis stuck her hand inside the sock, giggling at her moment of clever genius, then stuck her hand back out the window, sock and all.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened next. Just as Mr. Husband realized what was going on and yelled for Alexis to get her hand back in, the sock went flying down I-70, surely landing on the windshield of the vehicle behind us.

Alexis was DEVASTATED.

She cried.

She screamed.

She pleaded.

She wanted the stupid Dora sock back.

Mr. Husband, in the midst of grasping at straws, suggested that I try tricking her with the remaining Dora sock, but of course Alexis responded by saying, "NO! I want OTHER Dora sock!" It took a RIDICULOUSLY long time to calm the kid down, and all the while, Mr. Husband was very animate that NO WAY was he going back to get it.

Apparently, even The Swamp Thing has his limits.

Once we returned home, Alexis was playing in the living room when she came across the lone remaining pink Dora sock. She looked at it for a moment then walked over to the patio door and tried to open it. I asked her what she was doing, to which she replied, "Momma, will you open the window so Dora sock can fly?"

I declined her offer, but if you happen to be driving down I-70 near Columbus and spot a fugly pink Dora sock, feel free to stop and grab it. I won't reward you for your efforts, but I will enjoy watching the Toddler's face as her hand her back her flying sock.