There is an ice cream truck that drives through the neighborhood every so often. I always tell the girls "no" for many reasons. Today we were out back throwing around a softball and it was really hot. Then the familiar sound came tinkling down the street. Realizing that I can't shelter my children from all of the fun things of my childhood because they have been ruined by sugar and obesity and creepy people and child abductions, I grabbed some cash and we ran to find the truck.
They were certainly not as awestruck as I was as a child by the thought of all of those sweets in one place. They each happily chose a popsicle and then scampered off to eat it in the grass.
That wasn't so bad was it?