Last weekend my parents invited the whole family to a lake house in Austin they had rented for the weekend. The vacation was great--filled with lazy days by the pool and shopping trips and lots of laughs together. But I don't blog about the good things--I blog about the ridiculous things, so I have to write about our time in the car.
Luckily for us, Austin is only a short drive away. It took about 2 hours to drive from our door to the door of the rental house. Unluckily, Carter was in a pretty bad mood on the trip there, and it was touch-and-go on the way back.
Jeffrey and I had one major thing in our favor: our son loves music. He perks up at the sound of singing, and it can calm most tantrums in seconds, so when Carter started crying approximately 10 minutes into our drive, mommy and daddy began our sing-a-long. We sang songs about frogs, ducks, itsy bitsy spiders, and (Carter's favorite) choo choo trains.
Happiness reigned in the car for about 20 minutes, but we hit a snag when he kept asking for more choo choo trains. We had sung 'little red caboose' 98 times, Jeffrey's sing song act from 2012 (train conductor theme), and 'I've been working on the railroad' ad nauseum.
When the chorus of "I nee mow choo choo TRAINS!" reached a decibel that warned of impending disaster---we got desperate.
And that's when we sang this highly inappropriate country song to our small child, together, in perfect harmony: