The Wonderful Husband and I made a momentous decision last week.

We pulled the plug.The kids were gifted with electronic tablets at Christmastime and since then, what started as educational apps and reading e-books has morphed into what seems like hours and hours of staring at screens. While it would have been easy to shrug off our children turning into zombies, and blame it on the end-of-winter blahs, the latest batch of report cards was too much to ignore, and as grades hovered near "the worst grades anyone in this house has ever gotten," we knew we had to cut the cord.It was all too easy to enjoy the peace that had come over our house as the three of them migrated to their own corners and sat quietly with their headphones on, transfixed by whatever garbage was blazing on the screen.It was a relief to be able to walk into the boys' room at night and not encounter the Lego minefield. But, when batteries died and temper tantrums ensued, it was a rude reminder that screen time is not a healthy form of baby-sitting.Of course we made this decision right before we had a cross-state road trip planned to attend a family wedding. Our timing is never less than impeccable.As we packed up the little, fuel efficient car for the 10-hour round trip, and the "he's touching me" fights started before they were even in the car, we contemplated caving. We could enjoy hours of uninterrupted, adult conversation if we let them have their "rot boxes." The nondriver could nap. We could listen to our music on the radio. It would be bliss.Then, I pictured arriving at the family gathering with my little bunch of zombies. My family has a history of lengthy interrogations at events like these, and I wanted the kids to be on their game. It was time to be strong. The WH and I locked eyes, and stayed the course. We could do this!We weren't even to Harrisburg before someone had gum in her hair. It is still a huge mystery how this happened. It was either by magic or the gum walked out of E's mouth and jumped in her hair. That's the story we got, and they're sticking to it.Despite being told numerous times to pack a small bag with some books or travel games or coloring books or SOMETHING to do, only one of them actually listened to us. E managed to pack half her bedroom, including her pillow, which also ended up gum infested.This set up a huge war between the "haves" and the "have nots." E did offer to share, but the boys had little to no interest in coloring in her Doc McStuffins coloring book or reading about the Shopkins. A and G decided to whine about the unfairness of their lives in lieu of other entertainment.With less than two hours to go, we absolutely had to make a pit stop. I decided to take one for the team and finish the trip sitting in the back, separating the kids.Unfortunately, the back seat of a Chevy Cruz is made for people who are even smaller than my kids, and I spent the next hour complaining that they were, in fact, touching me.We arrived just in time for the wedding and happy to stretch our legs. We also proceeded to spread ourselves out across a whole pew in the church. No one was touching ANYONE.After an evening of celebrating family, we headed off for a night at a hotel. The next morning, we rousted the kids early, hopeful that if we got on the road before they were really awake, they'd fall back to sleep and let us get at least part way home in peace.Unfortunately, before they drifted back to sleep, A asked G to pass the water bottle to him. G did so, with the cap off. Again, no one has any idea how this happened, but water ended up getting dumped all over A's lap.By the scream of anguish that arose from his corner, I would have thought someone stuck him with a hot poker. "How could you DO this to me?" he wailed.In an epically bad parenting moment, the WH and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. It was water, for goodness sake, not acid. Even A found it hard to maintain his outrage for very long, especially when he exacted his revenge at the next rest stop by jumping back in the car on G's side, and making G sit in the puddle for the rest of the ride.Not going to lie, arriving home later that morning felt like a truly monumental achievement.But, I also feel like we made some memories on that trip, which wouldn't have happened if everyone was locked into their devices.If nothing else, at least all of us can sing the entire Trolls movie soundtrack in unison.Later that evening, still in a bit of a pout over not being allowed to electronically zone out, and also as a late April Fool, the boys planted a few unfortunate members of their minnow farm in the toilet.They got me.They intended it as revenge, but it just made me realize how outside of the box they can think when they're not hooked on their screens.I think we're going to keep it that way for a while.Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.