So when we heard the ice cream man for the 20th time a couple weeks ago, and the girls came running in the house yelling for thier piggy banks, I suggested that we have an ice cream sandwich from the freezer instead. They were just enjoying their ice cream in the playhouse (on plates that haven't been washed for who knows how long) when Gabby came running in on the verge of an accident. By the time we had navigated through that, this is what we found in the backyard. The guys washing the windows couldn't help but laugh. "What is that?" they asked. Apparantly she had picked up on Gabby's ice cream sandwich where she had left off and the rest is history. I think it didn't help that it was one of those "Skinny-Cow" ice cream sandwiches; the chocolate sandwich part is extra sticky. Doug had just had the sprinklers on to test for broken heads so a walk through the wet grass on the way to the house, and voila. If you think this looks bad, you should have seen the playhouse. It took more than a little time to clean that baby up. Thank goodness for bathtubs.
No comments:
Post a Comment