Last night we had ice cream for dinner.
There was no reason for it. Nothing to celebrate, nothing to lament. Just no solid dinner plan, and a Facebook ad for make-your-own-sundae kits at a local ice cream shop that caught my attention.
So, we didn’t say anything to the kids, and at dinner time we set down a different flavor for each person, with a myriad of toppings in the center. There was shrieking, laughter, and giddy, unabashed joy. We piled on far too many toppings and drowned our ice cream in every kind of sauce imaginable.
It was messy, unhealthy, and totally against the rules.
And last night, it didn’t matter.
Last night, hot fudge was our vegetable.
Maybe this makes me not so great at adulting. Maybe it makes me really great at it. Who knows.
Last night, we put aside heavy thoughts and seriousness. We forgot about school work and laundry. We abandoned normal.
We were just happy. And it was good.