Over the weekend I was putting my son to bed and from the living room I heard my husband go “OH MY GOD, NO WAY!” And it straight up startled me… until I heard the bells.
A DICKIE DEE WENT BY MY HOUSE!!! I haven’t seen one of those bad boys for like 15-20 years easily!
I left my sons room (in hopes he’d be asleep soon…) to find my husband still on the couch reading… no popsicle in hand.
Then I heard my 3 year old start crying for me again… was it a bug? He wants his blanket higher even though it’s 50 degrees… whaaaat? I go in and tend to his toddler needs. But then I hear the bells again!
Not kidding… I legit hurried out of his room as calmly as I could, grabbed my wallet and ran out the front door… letting our 2 cats out in the process. All for a popsicle, I know. All the while my son started to cry for me again… I tagged my husband in and fled/chased/persued the Dickie Dee
Short story long… I called the kid and he stopped (with his little brother and dad in a truck in tow) to buy a $2 rocket pop. It was time, money and a bit of surprise cardio well spent.