Since Biscuit and I were both out of commission yesterday, I decided that we needed a treat this evening. I picked him up from day care, and we went our for a cheeseburger/fries/chocolate milkshake dinner.
Except - and if anyone has an explanation for this, I'm all ears - my little date didn't want any of my chocolate milkshake. He loved his cheeseburger (he said it was "yummy for his tummy"), and he loved his fries ("need ketchup, Mom"), but he would not even try my milkshake, even though I told him it was like chocolate ice cream!
I think they might have switched babies in the hospital because this kid doesn't like ice cream. He doesn't like pasta (including mac and cheese). And beans are one of his favorite things to eat. Who is this child?!?
Anyway, we left the restaurant and headed home. We got stuck in traffic because of an accident. I could see an ambulance, a fire truck and two police cars before we got to where the accident was. Biscuit loves rescue vehicles, but I didn't draw his attention to it because I wasn't sure what he might see.
As we got closer, I heard his little voice in the back seat. "Look, Mom! It's a ice ceam truck!"
He was talking about the ambulance. I'm not sure how he decided it was an ice cream truck, but hey, ice cream trucks are way better than ambulances.
Kids have to grow up too fast these days, but I hope Biscuit can hang on to that innocence for a while.
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