Ice Cream for Invalids

Last night when I got home from work L rushed up to me with a typical run-on request.

"Daddy, can we go to the ice cream store and get a special treat but Mommy can stay home cause she's too sick and we can bring her some ice cream and give it to her in bed and that would make her feel better." I cast a sidelong glance at Stacy and she visually responded with one of those I-don't-know-where-that's-coming-from looks.

"Wouldn't you rather have Mommy come with us?" I asked.

"No. She's too sick. And maybe N can stay home too." I was beginning to see the method to the madness.

"No," I said, "If we go get ice cream, we all get to go."

Well, as it turned out none of us got to go. An ill-timed temper-tantrum on N's part scuttled those plans. But rather than succumb to the doom and gloom of a disappointed 4-year-old I agreed we could all have ice cream at home. Surprisingly this was a perfectly acceptable alternative.

But suddenly, disaster struck! Out of the blue, Stacy developed a most terrible cough and was sent immediately to her bed. Fortunately for her, Nurse L was at the ready, armed with a highly medicinal bowl of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia.



It was a miracle healing, if ever there was one. One small bowl of B&J and Stacy was back on her feet, almost as if she had never been at Death's door. Thank goodness L had the presence of mind to prescribe the right treatment.

Tonight when I got home from work, it seemed ice cream was still on our minds, and since the children had been relatively good (My, how standards fluctuate!), we decided to make good on our previous night's aborted Baskin Robbins run.

It was most important that we go. We did, after all, have Stacy's sustained recovery to keep in mind...