Lost In Translation

I have two favorite back-to-school traditions. Emma is not starting pre-school until October, and so I do not really have a kid to buy school supplies for, and so I buy them for my piano kids. I love school supplies. So sharp, so new, so fall.

Second, I also go to the mall and "reclaim the mall" for all of the stay-at-home moms. The crowds of teens are gone and it's toddler heaven.

Yesterday while we were reclaiming the mall, I got the girls an ice cream: A Dairy Queen Girl Scout Cookie Thin Mint Blizzard. Yum. Emma and I picked it out. I happen to really like that cookie, and she happens to really like ice cream. Little Macey kept asking for "chocolate" and I assured her that it had chocolate in it.

The nice lady handed us our Blizzard, and Emma and I walked toward the bench where we would share and devour our purchase. I did not realize that Macey was not following. She ran back up to the counter, stretched herself up on her little toes, and asked the nice lady, "But where's my ice cream?"

You see, apparently Macey had a certain "chocolate" ice cream picked out: the Fudge and Brownie Ice Cream sundae that was being displayed, and she was dismayed that the nice lady was not handing it over.

I explained to Macey that we were all going to share the lovely Blizzard, but the fact that Emma was holding it and it was not what she wanted was too much for little Macey. She was very sad.

When Daddy gets back in town, he'll have to take little Macey back to get her ice cream. Poor thing.