No more cozy, rainy day delights, heck no. Now rain means a bored three year old. Hell hath no fury like a preschooler bored. Days when it rains I swear my children plot against me. No overlaying naps, no calm afternoons of quiet time and movies together, hell I'd settle for Wall-E, really I would. No puzzle making and crayola enjoyment. I feel like the night before it rains, Mason must lie in bed and think of what he can tell Max. After today I'm sure it was something like this running through his little head, "Ok Max, it's going to rain and we're going to be locked inside. ALL.DAY. So let's be as physical with each other as we can, because there isn't much room to burn up energy. I'll leave it to you to have a super clingy day, if you wanna be an overachiever you can even cut a few new teeth and throw all your spaghetti noodles on the floor for lunch. You know what else we can do? As soon as I am about to fall asleep for my nap, you should wake up from yours, really pissed and still clingy. Deal?" It was a done deal.
So today after repeated, failed nap attempts. Lots of smack down on the rug. Numerous "Please get off your brother" requests. I packed them up for an ice cream date.
It was Maximo's first taste of ice cream, okay, that is probably a lie. I know he's had bites of it. But today I let him (well I let Mason if you want to be technical) pick Max a flavor. I strongly urged him to stick to a color that wouldn't result in a confusing, what the hell did he eat, diaper in 24 hours. He chose vanilla frozen yogurt. WHO IS THIS KID? What 3 year old choose YOGURT...at Baskin Robbin's? Mason does, and well I guess Max did too. We got him a side of strawberries, drenched in syrup. It was disgusting but there were no complaints from Maximo. Mason got his classic vanilla (which he says ba-nee-ya) because he thinks he's bilingual and all. And because my mom thinks it is really hilarious for him to order food speaking Spanish. Mason's was drenched in m&m's, nerds, and rainbow sprinkles. Can I just state the obvious - I am SO GLAD HE DOESN'T STILL WEAR DIAPERS.
Max is really in to this whole I'll feed myself- but not really- because it already fell off the spoon on to the newly mopped floor- stage. It's cute, so long as your not the one mopping. Which is why it was precious at our nearest Baskin Robbin location. Max was a slightly confused at this freezing concoction I plopped in front of him...is this milk? Is this FROZEN milk? Hallelujah people frozen milk with sugar. Max really loves all foods, he'll eat a pear to the core and he prefers hummus and blueberries to tacos. He's a foodie already.
But ice cream wasn't his forte. Shocker. Really, I was shocked. I think the texture or more likely the temperature threw him for a loop. He'd fail miserably with his spoon and so he went to his next best bet - his hands. After a minute he started screaming bloody murder. The teenage girls behind the counter kept staring at me, like oh my God get that baby under control, what the heck is she doing to him!? Sue me I fed my baby ice cream, I know real torturous right? It took my Einstein self a second to realize, shit his fingers are probably fuh-reezing. Yup his pinky felt like an iceberg. One a better note, I bet none of the girls at Baskin Robbin's will be getting knocked up this year. You know after the tantrum he threw.
Lesson of the day? Icecream burns fingers and probably gives a brain freeze at the rate Mr. Max was consuming it. Solution? Stop eating. Max's solution? Eat. Scream. Be weary of sticking chubby fingers back in to cold but delicious concoction. Stress out. Laugh deliriously. Stick fingers back in ice cream. Scream. Repeat. No wonder they were looking at us so weird. Like lady, take the kid's damn ice cream away. Have some authority, you know he's only ONE YEAR OLD. It's probably illegal to even give your bitty baby ice cream anyway. But a better guess to the stares, Mason was breaking it down, shaking his hips like Shakira with each delicious bite of ice cream. He was one sprinkle slinging son of....son of a Marci. I had to tell him to get it under control more times than I'd like to admit.
We finally left. Thank God we were the only visitors to Baskin Robbin. In retrospect, the next time I want to entertain my kids, cheaply and in a manner that will have them ready for bed in the next hour...you know a kill some time before bed activity? Ice cream is probably NOT the best bet. But at least it was some rainy day fun.
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