Two weekends ago as I getting Siena out of the car at the soccer fields, we happened upon the ice cream truck stationed near the parking lot, which was preying upon weary parents and their hot, exercised Ronaldo’s. Siena saw the truck and all the kids lined up next to it, and said, “What is that?” Looking at the words “ICE CREAM” written in large, friendly letters on the back, and hoping to sidestep the issue of whether or not we’d actually buy ice cream after Siena’s game, I said, “It’s a truck that sells things to people.”
Siena walked a few steps, and said, “Ice cream. It says ice cream.”
“Can I have some ice cream?”
Darn, this is one of the downsides of our nearly-five-year-old being able to read a good many words now.