A trip to get cinnamon rolls

Today was Friday, which mens "treats day" - we were supposed to have cinnamon rolls. I asked Mom if I could go get the cinnamon rolls by myself. She said yes, but I had to take Ida with me. She went on her roller skates, and I went on my skateboard. The Patera bakery, where they sell cinnamon rolls, is in Podkowa Główna, and it’s already 3:00 p.m., so we have to hurry. These pastries are so good that you have to get there earlier in the morning to get them. At least that’s what Mom said. But you always have to have hope.

When we got to Patera, a woman was cutting flowers, and Ida parked her bike right in the middle of the entrance. What was I supposed to do? I leaned my skateboard against the bike and went inside after my sister. We said good morning and so on, and then I asked if there were any cinnamon rolls left.
“I’m sorry, but we’re out of them,” replied the woman behind the counter.
“But we have other good things,” added another.
I said thank you and that we’d come back another time.
“Okay, then let’s head to the doughnut shop,”

I said as we left the bakery. The doughnut and ice cream shop is just across the tracks. Generally, as long as we don’t have to go to the other end of town, everything is close by. Especially all those restaurants and bakeries.

First up is Alebosco,

right across the street. A few steps further down is the Donut and Ice Cream Shop. Across from that is Weranda. At the cable car station, there’s an ice cream shop, and on the other side of the tracks is OlaLa.

Man, it’s so crowded (I’m not saying another word).
At the donut shop, there was a man with a strange-looking head and a woman with children. I didn’t pay them much attention. I went straight over to see what the donuts were like. Strawberry, pistachio,

strawberry in white chocolate, Kinder Bueno, alcohol, and Nutella. Daddy wouldn’t eat any of these donuts because he doesn’t like fancy ones, and definitely not the alcohol-flavored ones.

I had a pistachio donut, Ida had a strawberry in white chocolate, and we got ice cream for our parents—vanilla and strawberry. Imagine that the lady didn’t have any takeout boxes! Luckily, I brought a skateboard. The donuts went straight into my sister’s backpack.
“Ida, maybe we should take the train?” I asked.
“Yes!”

“Oh man, the train isn’t for another 12 minutes!”
Ida made a face somewhere between “I ate something disgusting” and “what bad luck.”
I went to buy tickets. Then we got bored and worried that the ice cream would melt before we got to our parents.

Finally, the train arrived and we got on, but I didn’t have a hand free to validate my ticket, so I rode to the station as a stowaway. And Ida almost got left behind on the train because the doors almost closed right in front of her. But who would even notice (I hope the conductor isn’t reading this). Our house is two blocks from the station. You turn right and left, and you’re there. But I had a cup of ice cream. Because of that, I couldn’t walk as fast as I wanted to.

Finally, when we got to the gate, I rang the bell with my nose

because Ida started complaining that her back hurt and that I should carry her backpack.

The next day, Dad had a stomachache.

I think he got food poisoning from the ice cream. Because Mom ate sorbet, not ice cream. But as soon as he felt better, he made two pizzas. And then I went to dance class, and later we filmed a video with Lila and Jula.

And it was fun!