Stupid Ice Cream Trucks

So today, I was nauseated most of the day, as usual. I swear it's getting worse. I was lying on the couch and kind of dozing when Sadie suddenly ran out of the house, slamming the door. Alarmed, I started the long process of sitting up and getting off the couch. A painful thing to do. By the time I stood up, she came running back in, slamming the door again and weeping.

"What is wrong, Sades?" I asked.

"I missed the ice cream truck!!!" she sobbed.

We've started giving Sadie a small allowance this summer for doing some weekly chores. She's not good at them yet, but she's very diligent and doesn't do a half-arsed job, like Dylan does. She had a dollar, and she kept telling me all this week that she wanted to spend it on some ice cream from the ice cream truck.

I tried to console her, saying that we'd probably get another ice cream truck driving by tomorrow, because seriously, we get at least two drive-bys every day. I honestly want to flip off ice cream truck drivers most of the time. Because every time they drive by, I have to say no to all of the begging from my three children, and then they all cry and throw tantrums, and then I have to threaten to put them in time out, etc. Ice cream trucks are the bane of my existence.

No matter what I said, she couldn't be consoled. I asked if she wanted to hop in the car and catch the ice cream truck. I figured he couldn't be far. They drive soooo slowly. So she and I got into my hot car and drove all around the neighborhood in search of the ice cream truck. We couldn't find it anywhere. She had calmed down by now, and when I said that we could listen for the ice cream truck tomorrow, she nodded dejectedly.

So we went back inside and I started figuring out my coupons for tomorrow's shopping extravaganza. Sadie sat on the couch and watched Ben 10.

And then we heard it. The unmistakeable sound of cheesy ice cream truck music being played. Sadie and I looked at each other and grinned. She grabbed her dollar, and I went out with her. We couldn't see the truck at all! We finally spotted him cleeeear down the street. He was driving, like, 25 miles per hour! Who drives 25 miles an hour in an ice cream truck?? He must not get any business, if he's going so fast that people can't catch him.

Sadie started bawling again, and I said, "Let's go catch him, honey. Let's run."

I momentarily forgot about my physical condition. I'm almost eight months pregnant, and I was booking it down that street. I didn't have a bra on (who wears a bra when she feels sick?), so I was holding my boobs with one hand, and then I was holding my belly with the other hand. And I was running in my bare feet on the hot sidewalk. We probably passed seven or so houses before I was like, "Sades... I can't...do this...anymore..." and I stopped, panting, pain shooting up and down my pelvis bones. We saw that the dude was at a stop sign, and we realized that he would be turning and then coming up the street parallel to ours, so we decided to intercept him. We ran one more block, and, luckily, we caught him. And Sadie bought her darn fudge-cicle.

The things I do for these kids. Seriously.

And now, well, I can't really walk. Soooo much pain.