Last night, in honor of Bella's birthday, we, (her brave and tolerant owners), went out for ice cream cones at the famous Farr's. It's like one of our city's hidden treasures. You should go. $1.00 for a cone stuffed with delicous ice cream- and all kinds of flavors. Are you kidding me? $1.00?
Before leaving, we wondered why we hadn't gone there before.
We will definitely go again.
Morgan got his very own cone and I think it was the highlight of his life.
We sat in their parlor, sharing flavors, and watching Morgan 'oooh' and 'awww' over the delicious goodness dripping through his fingers and onto his jacket and pants. Then a group of prom-goers came and overwhelmed every customer there.
We rolled our eyes (and I thanked the good Lord for us making it through those years a while back.)
One kid was wearing tennis shoes with his white tux and the girls were missing the top halves of their dresses.
When they sat down with their cones, one of the guys pulled the chair out from behind his date when she bent to sit down and she fell on the floor (yes, in her dress and heels). Everyone turned and the room went silent and he just laughed and tried apologizing.
That was our cue.
If my ice cream hadn't been just what I needed, I would've smashed my cone on his head as we walked out the door.
I was so offended. (So was Jared.) I tried not to glare. I tried smiling apologetically to the humiliated girl as we went out the door. And as we strapped Morgan into the carseat I was saying things like, "That was really bad...", "That poor girl....", and (while looking at my son), "Don't you ever....".
When we had shook our heads long enough, we turned up the heat full blast (because it was May 1st and East Idaho's cool like that), and we ate the rest of our yummies in the car and giggled at how Morgan was covered from head to toe in melted raspberry cream.
We went straight home. Tubbed, pajama-ed, and rocked our baby, and then snuggled up to each other on the couch. Bella got her birthday bone from Cal Ranch. And we turned on Lovely Bones, which we turned off halfway (not for mothers of the tender nature), then settled for SNL and a few re-runs of NCIS.
Saturday evenings are the best!
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Dear Morgan:
Please don't ever grow up. And certainly don't grow up to be a stupid teenage boy. Don't wear sneakers with any sort of dressy apparal. Don't take out girls that are immodest and don't you ever pull out chairs from behind anyone thinking it's funny.
Mmm kay?
Just do us all a favor and don't grow up!
Thanks!
Oh, and PS: I'm your mommy forever. Don't forget it!
Are you kidding! Who does that?
ReplyDeleteBesides, immature teenage boys that where sneakers with their white tuxes. I guess.
Farr's is the best, isn't it.