After our meager Family Home Evening tonight,
I told the Little Nies I would take them to get ice cream.
(Also, Mr. Nielson is at the ranch).
Well, for one thing, we couldn't agree on where
we wanted to go get ice cream, and that caused contention.
Then, I made an executive decision and chose
Provo's slowest, busiest place.
Bad choice.
We persisted and waited- but the boys were losing it.
You know how little boys are; It starts with a tiny punch,
then a few slaps, and then, before you know it, there is
pinching and scratching followed by tears.
Just as I stood up to the line to order our ice cream,
my boys were wrestling each other in line.
I got up to the cashier, turned around, looked at the boys, and turned back
to the young cashier and said,
"Thank you, but I think we will go home now."
Five very unhappy children followed me out and in tears.
As I tucked each child into bed,
I told them all how much I loved them and then
told them we could try getting ice cream again tomorrow.
Sometimes, I hate "sticking to my guns,"
And I really, REALLY wanted/needed that Oreo malt tonight.
