When you get to Pal's she will only want a strawberry milkshake to drink, which you will get her because she is underweight and her doctor prescribed more milkshakes. Nothing is fair in life.
While she drinks her milkshake, she'll take off her shoes and socks.
If your child takes off her shoes and socks, you'll have to carry her into the house because it's January. This was the child's plan all along.
When you carry the child, diaper bag, Pal's bag of trash, and your drink, you won't have enough hands to also carry the strawberry milkshake. The strawberry milkshake will only be 1/3 drunk because of the aforementioned underweight issues. You will vow to come back for it.
If you leave the strawberry milkshake behind, you will forget it because motherhood has left you with only 4 brain cells and all four are committed to remembering the entire script of The Polar Express.
When, not if, you forget the strawberry milkshake, it will freeze overnight.
On Wednesday, when you frantically throw everyone into the car for gymnastics, you will notice that there is something sticky all over the car seat. The forgotten milkshake will have busted through the cup, melted, and leaked every-friggin-where.
If it is Wednesday morning, you won't have the time to deal with this because you're already running late for gymnastics, so you will stuff the child in the seat and she will knock the cup over, spreading the sticky, stinky mess to the shoes and socks left in the floorboard from Sunday.
After gymnastics class you will go to Pal's for a sweet tea because there is no caffeine in your house and life cannot continue in this barbaric manner.
If you go to Pal's, she's going to want a strawberry milkshake.
