Yesterday, I picked Ezra up from VBS and decided to take him somewhere fun for lunch. We love Wendy’s, so we headed there for his chicken nuggets and oranges and milk. He ate like a champ, and I was so proud of him that I told him we could get a Frosty.
There was a long line of people in front of us, so we waited patiently for our turn at the counter. Ezra was getting antsy, as any three and a half year old would do when he was aware that ice cream was only moments away.
That’s when it happened.
Out of NOWHERE he stuck his hand up my skirt and yelled, “WHERE ARE YOU UNDIES, MAMA???!”
Needless to say, I am dead from the embarrassment. Totally dead.
(And YES, I was wearing undies.)
I may never go to Wendy’s again.