From non-pizza to ice cream

Okay, I am absolutely exhausted. We were up at 6 a.m. today, in the car by 7:30 a.m., and rolling into Mom's driveway at 3:30 p.m. We did pretty well for time, and happily missed every one of the eight highway patrol cars we saw or passed by on the highway. Sydney rocked the drive, per usual, and it was nice to have Mom in the car with me so we could chat.
Have you ever heard of a pizza place closed on Monday nights? My very favorite pizza place, from which we always order pizza when I'm here, is closed on Mondays. It's ridiculous, I think, because when I want their pizza, I should be able to get their pizza. Anything else is unacceptable. Instead though, Mom, Lisa, Sydney and I went to dinner at my favorite Mexican food restaurant in town. I'm quite full. But you know, I was full after dinner, and had made just enough room in my tummy for the cookies for dessert. But then Mom's all, "You gonna have ice cream with that?" I'm all, "No, I'm good with the cookies. I've been eating the cookies straight up all day." She says, "Well, this is more of a dessert thing, and that means ice cream." I say, "Oh, okay, I guess." And then there was ice cream in front of me, too. I ate it. Now, I'm super full.
I have no idea what we're going to do tomorrow. The mystery of it is fantastic.