Mommy briefly looked up from the phone where she'd been chatting with Isla's Aunt May for the past hour. Aunt May was a dear but boy did she like to talk. Daddy always said if you told Aunt May that your house was on fire and you had to get out immediately, she would keep right on talking. "What?" asked Mommy uncertain what Isla had asked. She'd been half daydreaming half listening to Aunt May.
"Can I get ice cream?" repeated Isla twice as eagerly.
"Can we talk about this when I get off the phone?" asked Mommy.
Isla knew it wasn't really a question. She sighed and flopped down on Mommy's bed and impatiently waited for Mommy to get off the phone.
After about fifteen or twenty minutes and at least three or four times when the conversation seemed to be ending but didn't, Mommy finally got off the phone. Isla eagerly bounced off the bed. "Now can I get ice cream." She inquired hopefully.
Mommy glanced at the clock on her bedside table, and shook her head. "It's too close to dinner."she