We're going to Oma's...

Twice a week, I pack the kids up in the van and we head down the road. 

Well actually, a lot of things happen before we leave.  We get dressed, make some food for the diaper bag, pack a couple diapers, fresh clothes, pajamas, take a few trips to the potty, scatter like flies as we attempt to load the mini-van, insist on getting in the carseat and buckling ourselves, hop out of our seat once or twice and do it all over again, drive out of the neighborhood and book a U-ey to go back and get the forgotten cell phone, try again, and book one more U-ey to go back to get the forgotten diaper bag. 

Okay - so NOW we're on the road again.  For 30 minutes we sing the happiest song on earth.  Not a Disney tune.  Not even a Backyardigans song.  It goes something like this.

♪ We're going to Oooo-ma's, to Oooo-ma's, to Oooo-ma's ♪

♪ We're going to Oooo-ma's!  House!  To!  PLAYYYYYY! ♪

My mom lives in a huge in-law suite in my sister's house.  My sister and her husband have 6 children.  When I invented the little jingle, it seemed only fitting that we simply call it Oma's house.  Adding on every other family member to the song would have been complicated.

But the kids know exactly what happens when we get there.

They have the time of their little lives.  And I get a long break with 6 baby-sitters at my beck and call.

Hey Leo?  What are you working on??

DUTCH!!  FETCH!!!

Sorry little man.  He's just not playing along.