Olivia went to Venice. Olivia ate gelato. A lot of it.

But what is gelato? And where can we get some?

Olivia’s experience and the questions it inspired have been plaguing Manchild for weeks now. He’s been diligently completing his chores so that he can earn the number of stickers required for an ice cream trip so that he, like Olivia, can eat gelato. A lot of it.

Sometimes, however, your dreams have a way of ambushing you and coming true at the moment you least expect it – which is what happened tonight when, after we finished our fancy pizza, our waiter asked if the boys might be interested in some gelato – on the house.

Oh dear. Manchild could hardly contain himself. He was hyperaware of the waiter’s every movement, wondering when the promised gelato would at last be put in front of him. It must have seemed like hours for the poor boy. Then suddenly, there it was. His questions would be answered. His dreams fulfilled.

Too soon the bowl was emptied, licked clean. But the glow of the dream stayed and the adrenaline continued to rush, pushing him to run and dance down the sidewalk on the way home.

Micah and I laughed at his excitement. It was obvious what his favorite part of the day was.

Obvious, or so we thought. But nothing is certain when dealing with 5-year-olds. And so it was that we too, were ambushed by his answer when we asked him about his favorite part of the day.

“Playing Hungry Hungry Hippos,” he said after a moments thought.

“Not gelato?” we asked, puzzled.

“No, I liked playing Hungry Hungry Hippos.”

Hmmm. Perhaps the gelato did not live up to its billing in Olivia’s Venice adventure. Or perhaps the boy simply prefers the idea of porcine creatures stuffing themselves silly to actually doing it himself.

 

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