On March the twentieth, the einsteins plus one found these tickets among their things.
The dessert express would be arriving shortly. Their tickets entitled them to one single dip cup (or cone!) and round trip fare on the journey.
They quickly assembled themselves into footie pajamas (because that's what you wear on the dessert express?) and anxiously awaited 7:45.
(and let me say, when I say anxiously, I mean the kind of anxious that calls for asking every 60 seconds if it is 7:45 yet, what the dessert express looks like, where they were going, who was driving it, yadda yadda yadda. Enough to tempt the mister and I to lift the couch cushions hoping for tickets for two on the magaritaville express!)
At 7:45 on the dot, the train whistle blew, and the kids piled into the dessert express and we stopped down the street to pick up the youngest train rider, baby parklet (who had to be carried in by it's mommy - you know - the whole babies in the womb can't ride trains alone thing...), and headed off to claim our desserts!
Our engineer was the best!
He remembered all our orders, even when we changed our minds a kazillion times.
The happy endings...