As we walked to the car, I suggested we stop for ice cream on the drive home and caught F’s eye as he looked quizzically at me: had I finally lost it? Didn’t I know it was dinnertime?

Come on, I said. It will be fun! You can get whatever you want. 

It was just before 5pm on a Wednesday and ice cream is a far cry from our usual dinner fare – it’s a far cry from our usual anything, actually. Between the return to school and a new co-parenting/visit schedule, it seems like I barely see my kid anymore. The last week has been excruciatingly long and tough for me(and also weirdly lonely), so I decided we needed a date.

Monday was a write-off, and Tuesday was a disaster of epic proportions, so Wednesday had to be better — and ice cream was going to make it better.

We hit our favourite ice cream spot and while I had expected us to settle into seats, F asked if we could go back to the car and listen to our own music. With his red velvet ice cream in a sprinkle cone and my strawberries n’ cream, we sat in the car blasting music together. It was nothing special and it was perfect. But what I had intended as a little treat turned into the main course, in F’s mind (and it was all I ate – I was stuffed!)

Me: what do you want for supper?
F: I thought our ice cream was supper…
Me: k, dessert then?#momoftheyear

— Ashley MI (@imashleymi) October 12, 2016

(He had carrot sticks and veggie dogs for dessert.)