When
you're little it happens like this:
You: MAMA WHEN ARE WE GOING HOME *CRIES* I'M TIRED
Your Mama: Just a couple more minutes, I have to say bye and find your daddy
You: Okay :)
*7 hours later*
Your daddy: *slaps knee and sighs* Welp, I spose. We gots to get home,
little Timmy is tired
Your uncle: You haven't even finished your beer
Your daddy: I'm driving pal
Your uncle: Lemme walk you to your car then
Your daddy: *rolls down the window to talk to your uncle*
*3 hours later*
Your daddy: oh gosh
look at the time, we gots to get goin.
Your uncle: Your tire is looking a lit flat there bud. roll er into the garage and I'll top er off for ya
Your uncle: boy it sure is chilly and I's can see your hot n cold ain't working too good, why don't yous come inside and I'll grab your leftovers too.
*the cycle of the midwestern goodbye will continue on until one of you dies*