'Are we nearly there yet? Are we nearly there yet?'
It's probably fair to say that the last few weeks have brought out the inner child in all of us. And that's not necessarily a good thing.
We're all singing the Lockdown Blues and, if recent reports are to be believed, eating a record-breaking amount of chocolate and staying in our pyjamas - a great way to spend time if you're a child, but not so great when you are meant to be an adult.
That sense that there's very little we can do to change anything has become more pervasive in recent weeks, but at least there is one glimmer of hope on the horizon - if the reports are to be believed, we're finally on the cusp of actually forming a government.
In normal times, the delay in the formation of a new administration would have been a cause for concern.
In these truly weird times, it was a cause for panic.
The idea of Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael actually entering a coalition with each other would ordinarily be seismic.
At the moment, however, the national inclination seems to be more of a shrug of the shoulders as we stare at the walls of our house - if we're lucky enough to have one, that is - and try not to go mad with boredom and cabin fever.
That's an understandable reaction and nobody wants to be scolded for not displaying the usual interest in the nefarious machinations of the Irish party political system.
But while such a response may be understandable, it misses the bigger picture and that bigger picture is fascinating - a marriage of inconvenience between the two big beasts of Irish politics whose mutual antipathy stretches back a century.
I've spoken to numerous foreign journalists down the years and they all share a genuine bafflement about two parties who seem to loathe each other yet are virtually indistinguishable when it comes to policy.
It's a fool's errand trying to explain the historical and cultural differences between both sides.
But it is also fascinating to get an outsider's view on the way we run our political system.
While the Tories and Labour are divided by clear ideological lines, and the Democrats and Republicans are similarly defined by their opposing belief systems, our two main parties often struggle to explain what makes them different to the other.
If you're enough of a masochist to ever sit down with either a Fianna Fáil or a Fine Gael activist, you will see that even they struggle to make a clear political differentiation between them.
And then the conversation will inevitably return to the Civil War and all those inherited, irrelevant gripes and slights will be dragged out like a corpse at a wake.
As we - hopefully - get closer to seeing the white smoke of an announcement, there will be loyalists on both sides who are gnashing their teeth and rending their hair at the prospect of getting into bed with the enemy.
We're currently hearing a lot of blather about how the world will be different after Covid-19.
We're getting a load of bunkum about how it will apparently make us all kinder and more sensitive.
That's open to debate but there is no denying that of all the things which will have changed in the post-pandemic landscape, we will have well and truly left Civil War politics behind us.
Most of us already had anyway but we're a people renowned for lovingly nursing our grudges and holding them close to our hearts.
So the prospect of a coalition, even if it is destined to be a coalition of the unwilling, is the biggest political development of our lifetime.
Ah, I hear you ask - but who will join them to make up the numbers? Which leader of any of the smaller parties will be prepared to risk political oblivion in the name of the national good?
After all, Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael can only muster 72 seats between them and there is a need for, at the very least, 80+1 TDs to try to restore some degree of sanity and stability to the next Dáil.
When not parping on about hardware stores and growing seeds in our south-facing gardens, Eamon Ryan and his Greens have 12 bodies who could certainly get this coalition over the line.
Yet they still seem strangely reluctant, as do both Labour and the Social Democrats, who could use their TDs to play a six-a-side against each other but who don't seem too enthused about getting their hands dirty in the next government.
And this will be where the big question comes up - for all the clichés about the greater good and the national interest, politicians are people too, even though we often forget that fact.
In other words, no politician wants to sign the death warrant for their own career.
So we are still left in the static state of a caretaker government until someone like Alan Kelly decides to bring Labour into a perilous arrangement with the bigger lads.
When it comes to Labour and its dithering about helping to form a government, we should ask it one simple question - what have ye got to lose?
That once proud party was nearly wiped out in February.
And it seems to be sliding inexorably towards complete obsolescence, which would be a tragedy for the working class of this country.
Kelly seems to revel in his hard man, tough-talking image and now is the perfect time for him to step up to the plate and - to mix one's metaphors - demand a seat at the table, with all the risks and responsibilities that come from being in power.
As we inch ever so slowly towards some form of a resolution to this interminable saga, now is the time for the leader of one of the minor parties to go all-in and put their country ahead of their own political interests.
Will any of them have the cojones to make that bold move?
Time will tell.
But time is running out.