Ice Cream for Lunch

Anyone who has multiple children will tell you that as the brood increases, the rules relax. Part of it is time driven—you simply can’t spend hours chopping up carrot sticks and reading several books at a time. And part of it is the realization that babies are not nearly as delicate or as un-resilient as you originally suspected. You realize it is more than okay to let some things slide.

And so it was with Kara.

When her sisters were at Locust and Stewart school, she and I with enough regularity to qualify me as a bad parent, ate ice cream for lunch.

It was awesome.

Decadent.

Lunchtime sweets were our secret—we told no one about our guilty pleasure.

And last Sunday, while shopping for work clothes for her new job we realized that we were hungry—it was 2:30 pm and we hadn’t eaten lunch yet.

So as we approached the Carvel on the journey home we knew what we had to do: stop for vanilla cones with sprinkles.

And it was awesome—the ice cream and company were still as sweet--just as sweet as when she was a little girl.