When my two older brothers were about seven and ten, they were in the back seat of an old black four door car belonging to Dad’s friend T.H. Wingo. Apparently, they (the boys) had interrupted the ongoing conversation in the front seat on several occasions. Dad finally told them not to interrupt until there was a lull in the conversation and then they could chime in.
They were likely wrestling around in the back seat, just guessing. But what we know happened finally came to light as the conversation in the front seat stopped. Dad looked back at Jerry and asked: “you had something to say?” Jerry responded: “Jimmy fell out.” Sure enough, they found Jimmy walking toward them about a mile back down the road. Thank God for soft rural county roads!