The kids and I were outside riding bikes and playing in the driveway.  Way down the road, they heard the faint sound of an ice cream truck.  Sister got an idea: “Mama! An ice cream truck! Let’s go see if we can catch it!”  She took off riding as fast as she could down the sidewalk.  And Brother followed.

One thing about Brother, though – he was on a tricycle that wasn’t moving quickly.  His helmet wasn’t fitting right, so it was bobbling about on his head.  His shoes were on backwards.  And his pants were drooping around his waist.  Fed up with the tricycle, he asked if he could run to the ice cream truck.  “Sure, sweetie.”  
What followed was one of the most endearing scenes ever – Brother high tailing it after Sister, waddling to keep his pants up, with both hands on his helmet to keep it on his head, crying out, “Wait for me, ice cweam twuck!!!”