When Katie was born two years ago, my mother flew in from Minnesota to help. The surprising highlight of the visit came one evening when she decided to treat the girls to ice cream at the local Byrne Dairy. Robyn and Amber each had a normal scoop (we didn’t know they offered kiddie-cones) of rainbow sherbet and since it was the end of the day and we were eating on a picnic table outside we let them revel in all of its melty marvelousness unrestrained.
What a mess.
Only a couple of cell phone photos of the event exist, and, while the girls certainly do look sloppy in them, they don’t even begin to capture the full ice cream insanity. The best moment came when Amber realized her arm was literally stuck together and she wasn’t able to unbend her elbow. Mom and I nearly fell off the bench watching her try to peel her upper and lower arms apart.
That was the beginning of a tradition: when Grandma comes, we go for ice cream.
Her recent trip to meet little Matthew was no exception. Once again we found ourselves sitting in the shade at Byrne Dairy; once again we bought the non-kiddie-size and let the girls go at it. No one’s skin got stuck together this time, but there was still plenty of sticky sloppiness to go around.
|The trouble with dribbles.|
|Got ice cream?|
|I think it's safe to say that happiness is a two-year-old with an ice cream cone.|
|Even at four years old, though, Amber was still great ice cream entertainment. Here she is trying to steal a lick off of Katie's cone.|
|Another great moment? When we realized she had eaten half of the paper wrapper at the bottom of the cone without noticing.|
|Burning off some of the ice cream-induced insanity by dancing on the grass.|
|Little Matthew slept through the whole event. Just as well: he has to wait until next year for his turn to try some anyway.|
|Apparently two-year-olds don't have the monopoly on melty messiness. Maybe it's hereditary?|