Girlfriend kept me out late and now I'm too tired to think of a witty title

Okay, so it's very late Wednesday night and I'm just getting around to my weekend news. Get over it. You all (or yinz guys as we say here in the 'burgh) know it was good so it's not like you were being held in suspense. We all blew off Friday and left around lunch time, taking our sweet ole time and missing the weekend/holiday traffic, for the The Thing's house.
We held a picnic on Saturday to introduce the kids to some of Thing's friends (Inigo & Buttercup - I'm sorry you guys couldn't come. You were missed.), Sunday we went to an Oriole's game and then walked around Fell's Point, and Monday we did absolutely nothing but enjoy each other's company which is the best of all. The kids were spoiled by Thing, as always, but especially The Girl. What is it about blue-eyed blonde girls? Thing's yard, much to his friends' amusement, is now adorned with a large red plastic sandbox and various containers of sidewalk chalk & paint. And Thing's spare bedroom holds a pink inflatable princess bed.
Now, there was one thing that happened. I'm not going to say it was good or bad because it was both...and neither. Anyone who has ever parented a 4 year old will know what happens when said child has spent a Sunday afternoon in 94 degree sunshine watching a baseball game for several hours during their usual nap time. For anyone who has never experienced this phenomenon, I'll tell you what happens...meltdown during the car ride home. You so much as look sideways at that sweet little blonde haired thing and she'll shriek bloody murder through blue-eyed tears for 15 straight minutes. If you're lucky. 30 minutes, if you're not.
We were not.
The Thing handled it better then any other 35 year old non-parent I know (and a zillion times better then her own father would have handled it.) He never once lost his patience with her though you could see the look of 'exhaustion' on his face. When we finally arrived home, I got The Girl calmed and started in to her normal bedtime routine. The Thing, being aware that he needed to take care of himself, jumped on his computer while wearing large headphones and vegged out for an hour or so. By the time The Girl was ready for bed, she was calm and The Thing was back to his normal carefree self. They were their usual cute selves full of hugs for each other, all was good and life went on.
Had this been The Paperweight...
Screaming would have ensued in the car (his trying to drown hers out) until everyone was upset and frustrated. He then would have dumped us at the house, leaving me with a girl fraught to hysterics by this point, while he took off for several hours on his own without my having a clue as to where he had gone. But not before screaming at me because The Girl was screaming. Because it would be, of course, my fault. I know this for a fact because it has happened just like that before. Many times. Many many times.
The weird thing is...I've gotten a couple of emails from Thing this week which were almost apologetic for his 'not being used to it'. Ha! I've tried to explain to him that he did well. Parents get frustrated. That's the simple fact. The issue is how you deal with it. And The Thing...well...you know. He's an amazing man.