It's Sundowning Time Again

In the late afternoon, I feel my energy flagging and my patience thinning. I want to sit awhile and relax. I am human, after all. But it's sundowning time again. He's anxious, nervous, agitated. He jumps up, starts pacing, and is in a hurry to "go somewhere."

"Where would you like to go?" I ask.
"Somewhere," he replies.
"Yes, but where?" I am hoping for a hint of what's going through his mind.
"Let's GO!" he demands.
"Okay, but where do you want to go?"
He points to something in the room. "This thing here," he says.

Okay. We go out to the car, pull out of the driveway, and drive around aimlessly for a half hour or so. At each stop sign, I ask him which way he wants me to turn. He seems to be enjoying himself a little and relaxing. I am encouraged as I pull back into the driveway.

"Finally!" he says, relief on his face.

We walk into the house and settle in front of the television for a little distraction. We've been home five minutes.

"Well," he says, jumping up, "Let's go home!"
"We ARE home, honey," I explain.
"Well, can we go now?!"

I hesitate. I am tired and need to prepare our evening meal. He impatiently opens the back door and storms out.

"Please close the door," I think dejectedly as I follow him out.