The only thing standing between our family and fro-yo was one half-napping two year old. Ghengis Khan would struggle to keep us from Sweet Frog. Big one was no match.
Daddy quietly snuggled next to her, explaining to her almost listening ears that we were going for frozen yogurt. Nothing from big one.
At the mention of soft-serve heaven, small one moshpit-style leaped onto the bed, her face pressed down onto big one. Big one grunts, Uhh, I not comfy anymore.
Daddy and I howl, shaking our heads. Oh yes, why don't you lay there comfy while the rest of us pile yogurt into our bowls. I'm sure you'll be happier.
And don't we do it all the time? Skip the family dessert-for-dinner outing, or more realistically, the sunrise to stay in comfy beds.
This was our discussion this afternoon: Why hasn't small one been to Grandview yet? When was the last time we visited Bluebird Gap Farms?
We're so distracted by grown-up stuff... yard work and broken cars. Out of the habit of finding fun family stuff. Staying in our 'comfy' gluten-free home rather than making the mess to have the adventure.
Practice impractical. Plan impromptu. We need a bit less warm bed and bit more frozen yogurt. She agrees: