The familiar chimes and the catchy old song went by outside and I could see my daughter’s’ little faces light up. It was warm, they’d had a good day and I had some change in my pocket. “Come on then!” I found myself suddenly saying. “Let’s go and get an ice-cream”.
I was obviously ready to step outside immediately, forgetting for one brief moment about their lack of suitable footwear. (Ok for the garden but not ideal for walking the streets) So a good two minutes were spent quickly scrabbling around for shoes and dismissing their independent claims so we could just ‘get them on and go!’
Once outside the panic increased, we could see the ice-cream van at the top of our street but trying to run with a one-year-old and a three-year-old isn’t easy.
I stopped to pick little Miss A up but we didn’t make it. The van’s music began to play and off it went, around the corner.
Not wanting to disappoint my girls we tried a short cut, running down a little alleyway to meet it at its next stop.
And we did!!
And we were happy!
And I thought we had succeeded.
I was completely forgetting about the journey home.
Miss C managed really well actually.
I didn’t have enough hands to manage the other one.
My ice-cream, my change and my door keys in one hand, I used the other hand to hold the outstretched arm of my independent little miss. She must have been saving her cone for when we got home, holding it almost horizontally as she tottered along beside me.
I stopped many times to straighten it up, having visions of an empty hand, a mountain of ice-cream on the pavement and tears.
(Not to mention if she dropped hers I’d have to offer her mine! Bad mummy moment.)
Each time I tried to hold it for her, she loudly protested. Each time I straightened her little hand up, it fell forward again.
Then I felt a raindrop.
We didn’t have far to walk but it certainly felt like it with those two.
I ended up picking Miss A up to try and get home quicker, which resulted in my ice-cream all over her sleeve and her ice-cream all over my shoulder.
But we were finally home.
Ice-creams intact, still dry (albeit very sticky and covered in sprinkles) we sat down.
I think it must have been about five seconds later I heard a little ‘uh oh!’
I turned to look. It had all been in vain.
Little Miss A’s ice-cream was no longer in her hand. 😦