"Those people will have to eat, um, blueberry pancakes with lots of syrup."

"Or French toast! I make it for the ducklings a lot."

"Aww!"

"The who now?"

"She's got little siblings."

"And when we all go out together they follow me around in a little line, so they are my tiny blonde ducklings and I am the mama duck."

"How old are they?"

"Oookay, let's see. Michael's fourteen, Thomas is twelve, Anne's nine and Patrick just turned eight."

"Do you have to babysit a lot?"

"Yeah, all the time, Mommy and Daddy are never home. But Anne and Patrick get out of school later than we do and Michael and Thomas have soccer today, so I don't have to rush home or anything."

"Perfect for ice-cream-ing."

"I take my ice cream where I can get it," she agrees solemnly. Mostly solemnly.

"Such wisdom. Teach me."

"Only when you have proven yourself worthy in today's ice cream quest!"

"How may I be worthy, great master?"

"...meh, it's really not more complicated than 'eat ice cream, find it delicious.'"

"Oh. I should be good, then. Unless I have a tragic ice cream accident."

"Then we might have to try again. More ice cream!"

"But after a tragic ice cream accident I could be out of ice-cream-eating condition for weeks! Months! What if it goes up my nose? What if my brain is so frozen that all I can think about is snowflakes?"

"Then we'll get you a scarf and a carrot for your nose and name you Snowgirl?"

"Frosty the Snowgirl, was a jolly happy soul. With a frozen brain and a carrot nose and some ice cream in a bowl."

"Oh, all right, since you asked so nicely."

"Pretty please with chocolate on top?"

"I already said all right. You have my permission to eat your lunch. I will not improvise further belated Christmas music."