If Shakespeare Had Traveled With a Car Full of Kids

To pee or not to pee, that's not the question;
But rather where to stop, how long to linger,
Who'll be the first in line, which one the hindmost,
How many miles before we must again
This unremitting ritual repeat.

To nag, to wail, to brawl, perchance to scream;
Ay, there's the rub: to venture blithely forth
Then be engulfed by ceaseless sibling strife,
Assailed by clamorous cacophony
That doth perforce make madmen of us all.

'Tis nice 'tis true, 'tis true 'tis nice to tour,
To profit by a pleasing change of scene;
But best is journey's end when spirits soar
Like larks at dawn as we exulting cry:
"At home at last! For this relief much thanks!"

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