No, the flatbread did not overproof

My friend Matthew likes to throw beach bbq parties (possible year round here in Honolulu). He has a gas grill and a hospitable spirit. For yesterday's gathering, I promised to bring flatbread to grill. Made yogurt flatbread dough, rolled out the breads, piled them into a container (separated by sheets of wax paper). Headed out for the bbq, which was to be held at a distant beach. After a half-hour drive to an unfamiliar place, I got there and saw no one else. I checked my phone and found a text message I had missed: the venue had been moved to a beach MUCH closer to my house. 

Meanwhile, breads were sitting in the back seat, swelling up in the heat and humidity. 

I drove back in rush hour traffic, kvetching at traffic, worrying about the breads. 

I was the last one to arrive at the new venue. "Start the grill right now," I begged. "This flatbread must be cooked soon!"

It turned out OK. More than OK. I have been asked to bring flatbread to the next bbq.