"Go."

"No."

"Drive, Josh!"

"Not yet."

"What are you waiting for?"

"You to tell me what I'm doing wrong."

"You're not driving, that's what you're doing wrong."

"I'm well aware I'm not driving right now. But I will drive."

"When?"

"When it's clear!"

"How much clearer do you want it to be, Josh? You could have gone ten times over already."

"Donna, if you keep talking to me I'm going to lose concentration and we'll never get out of here."

"We're never going to get out of here anyhow at this rate."

"I'm going to pull out after that truck goes by."

"Which truck?"

"That one."

"The one half a mile away?"

"Yes."

"Josh, you can go before that truck passes."

"No, it's not safe."

"Yes, it IS!"

"Don't scream, you'll wake up Isobel."

"She's going to wake up demanding to be fed soon and I'll be damned if I breastfeed her here in the hospital parking lot."

"See, now you're talking and distracting me."

"I was talking before."

"And you were distracting me then, too, which is why we haven't moved!"

"We haven't moved because you've obviously forgotten how to drive a car."

"I have not."

"Do you want me to drive?"

"No!"

"You sure? You're obviously having trouble finding the gas pedal so maybe I should book you a couple lessons?"

"I CAN DRIVE!"

"Stop shouting, you'll wake her up."

"I'm not shouting; I'm speaking emphatically."

"Whatever. The truck has passed now. You can go."

"There's a car."

"That car is nowhere near us, Josh."

"It might speed up."

"Yes, that's right. The driver will see us cross the intersection and deliberately accelerate so he can cut us off."

"People do that."

"You're insane. Which people?"

"Crazy D.C. driver people!"

"Of which you used to be one before you became a father and obviously lost your ability to function behind a wheel."

"Look, Donna, I'm only trying to protect our newborn child whose life has barely begun."

"You think you're going to have an accident driving the two miles home?"

"It could happen."

"Yes, it could happen. But since you've been driving for more than thirty years without having a major accident, what makes you think something terrible will happen now?"

"There's a first time for everything, Donna."

"Wow, you're Mr. Positivity today."

"Positive, not Positivity."

"Well excuse me."

"I just don't want to risk it with her in the backseat."

"So you're going to drive like this every single time she's in the car?"

"Probably, yes."

"Okay. I'm going to walk home."

"Right."

"I'm not kidding, Josh. I'm going to undo my seatbelt in precisely five seconds if you don't hit the gas."

"I'm going to go!"

"I'm undoing it. See! My finger is pressing here and… oh! Click!"

"Put it back on!"

"DRIVE!"

"In a minute!"

"You're a lunatic, Josh. There hasn't been a motorbike, a car, a truck, a semi, or ANY SORT OF ROAD VEHICLE for the last two minutes. What are you waiting for? You think a squirrel is going to jump out of a tree and attack us?"

"Now you're just being stupid. Put your damn belt back on."

"I don't think I'm the stupid one here."

"Put it back on."

"I'm getting out of this car and walking home."

"Fine! Walk home for all I care! We'll see you later."

"I'm taking Isobel with me."

"Over my dead body."

"That will be arranged if you don't hit the gas."

"Funny."

"I'm deadly serious, Joshua. I want to go home, feed my daughter, put her to bed, and have a bath to get this hospital smell off me."

"You smell fine."

"I want to sleep in my own bed!"

"You will tonight! It's only half past three. Hours before bedtime."

"I'm getting into bed when I get home. Giving birth was tiring but these last five minutes have exhausted me."

"You're not doing anything but sitting there!"

"I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. Drive the car right now or I'm pulling out my cell phone, calling a cab and then changing the locks on the house before you get back."

"Donna-"

"You love sitting in this car so much doing nothing, then you can sleep in it."

"Fine! God. You drive then."

"Fine! Get out of the car and I'll slide across."

"FINE!"

...

"You could have gone then."

"It wasn't clear."

"Donna!"

"Wait, wait. I'm just getting used to being in a car again."

"You haven't left the car."

"I mean driving a car."

"You last drove this car five days ago."

"I was pregnant for nine months. My belly was in the way half the time. It feels all wrong now."

"How long are we going to sit here until it feels right?"

"When it feels right and there's no traffic, I'll drive."

"You're killing me here."

"Just shut up and let me concentrate."