Sometimes life hands you the unexpected and all you can do is laugh. Today I spent most of my day grudgingly working on a final paper for school due this week (yes, procrastination is my middle name). When I finally typed the last painful sentence, I was so elated I convinced Robbie that we should celebrate by walking down to Washtenaw Dairy for ice cream.
The Dairy is one of those quaint local spots that draws regular customers for decades. Every morning, old men gather to discuss how the world is going to hell in a handbasket over steaming cups of coffee and local business people rush in to buy a dozen of their amazing fresh donuts to keep the office workers happy. Every evening, residents of the Old West Side gather to eat ice cream and socialize with their neighbors on the wooden benches outside. It's usually a bustling crowd of giggling teenagers, sweaty kids in soccer uniforms, over-excited dogs and shuffling elderly couples. In short, it is a snapshot of life the way you wish it always was.
Despite the atmosphere, we usually don't linger too long since our dog and child are less than patient at this stage. So, as usual, we got our ice cream, talked with some people we knew for a bit, and then headed home with our cones in hand. We were only about 2 minutes into the walk when my cone suffered some sort of structural damage and dark chocolate ice cream immediately ran out in a stream - right onto my white tank top. It made a lovely brown trail down my enormous pregnant belly, which I proceeded to make even worse by trying to rub it away with a napkin.
There is truly no dignity in motherhood. I spent the rest of the walk home parading my brown-streaked belly for everyone to see (Robbie, bless his heart, did his best to cover me and cross the street when people approached us, but the great weather meant that every other house had a porch full of people watching us). Between laughing at myself and trying to frantically lick up the rest of the melting ice cream that continued to pour down my hands, I got home with a major stomachache and a lot of laundry.
To top off the night, my parents sent me this video from the Salt Lake City Jazz Festival which had me in fits again. The dance move at the end is truly worth watching: