Did you ever have one of those parties where the final set of guests just won't leave? They hang out on your couch telling you about Marge's great bargains at the flea market or George's recent surgery to finally remove his eleventh toe and all the while you're struggling not to fall asleep in what's left of the ranch dip. And then, when they finally leave, you have to stand there in the doorway waving at them, a broad smile on your face, saying "Thanks for coming" and "We'll have to do it again soon" and all the while you're really thinking, "Dear God, can't they move any faster? If their car doesn't start all, I'll push them to the top of the hill to give them a rolling start but please dear lord, make them leave."
I think that might have been what was going through the minds of the Obamas and the Bidens as they escorted former (yay!) President Frat Boy to a waiting helicopter following the inauguration: