OK. So last night after tubby and teeth, the ice cream man makes a long, slow trip past our house. (WHY???) Eli looked longingly out the window and I felt terrible. (Is it the hormones making me soft?) He's missed the last few opportunities for the ice cream man because he was in bed...so I caved. I grabbed my wallet and my son and headed out the front door. We're both in PJ's (him with no shoes, me with no bra) and standing at the end of the driveway. He decides on the ever popular Dora ice cream treat. Okee dokee. I hand over my $2 and watch my little man's face light up. We head inside and I told him to sit down to eat his ice cream while I went to grab a plate to catch the drippings. He replied, "No mama. It's almost bedtime. I'll eat it tomorrow." Wow! We were floored. We told him what a good idea that was and that he could have it after dinner. What a great moment...until...
he woke up this morning insisting that he should have his ice cream for breakfast and threw a terrible tantrum. I guess he's not as mature as previously thought.
2 comments:
Too funny...well it was good while it lasted!
He's definitely more mature than my wife right now. I can't tell you how many times I've had to give her ice cream for dinner or at bedtime or for breakfast...
Post a Comment