As the car door closed, he murmured, “This is getting too dangerous for the both of us.”

He gave me a sidelong glance as we both tried to ignore the thrashing in the backseat.

“If you’re snapping at them too, we might have overestimated what we can handle,” he continued in the same hushed voice.

I pressed my fingertips to my temples, a pitiable attempt to stop the throbbing. My hands were still trembling, echoing my surprise at my own rage. But they just wouldn’t stop.

Blinded, again, by the cacophony of screaming, I whipped my head around to face the twins, shouting again, “That’s it—we are done! Since you can’t behave, we’re not coming back for a second day tomorrow!”

I snatched their iPads and flung them straight back through to the trunk and they clattered against the rear window. If I could be honest, I wished I’d knocked them both out. Nervously, Matt rubbed my left shoulder as he navigated us out of the Disneyland parking lot.