On the way home from Utah yesterday, we made our usual breakfast stop at the McDonald's in Beaver. After we finished eating and got everyone buckled in, I said, "Ok, let's stop at the gas station and get some chocolate milk for the road" as I drove across the parking lot. Once I got there, Pickle cried out from the back he wanted to come with me. I said, "No stay in the car with dad" as I hurried in (not only to be fast but it was 32 outside!) and got the goods. When I climbed back in the car, Pickle was in the back crying. The following was our conversation:
"Pickle, what's wrong?
"You didn't get my any chocolate milk!" (he was crying and had the saddest face).
"Mom did too. It's right here," Tim said holding up a bottle of chocolate milk.
"No, I need some chocolate milk for the roadie! I need to put chocolate milk on the roadie!"
"Did he just say roadie?" I whispered to Tim.
"Yes," Tim whispered back.
"Pickle, we don't put chocolate milk on the road."
"I need chocolate milk for the roadie. I want to put it on the roadie!!!" (he was screaming at this point).
"The road will be fine Pickle. Drink your chocolate milk."
He finally quieted down and drank his chocolate milk. Tim and I were laughing. Roadie? Where does he get this stuff?
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