I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 440 Ice-cream (1)

As they made their way across the vast parking area, Alina let out a laugh. "Hahaha! I haven’t gone shopping like that in so long," she said, her voice bubbling with happiness. She glanced back over her shoulder at the mall entrance one last time. "It feels so good."

Dante only pressed his lips together, his eyes flicking down to the bags in his hands. Every single one was for the boys. Soft clothes, tiny shoes, clever toys, little snacks for the ride home. Not one thing was for her.

He didn’t say it out loud, but the thought settled in his heart. She hadn’t even paused in front of a single store for herself. Earlier, when he’d nodded toward a women’s boutique and told her, "You should pick something out, too," she had just waved him off with a radiant smile, too absorbed in the boys’ wonder to even consider it.

Watching her now, glowing from the simple, selfless joy of giving, he felt a powerful mix of warmth and sharp protectiveness. She was so good at taking care of everyone else. She deserved more. She deserved to be spoiled too. To be the one whose arms were filled with gifts, not just the one gently guiding everyone else toward happiness.

He adjusted the bags silently, the plastic handles stretching in his grip, and kept walking beside her. A quiet decision solidified within him. Not today. Today was for the light in her eyes as she watched the boys. But soon. He would find a way to take her somewhere alone, to slow her down, to make her look at something beautiful meant just for her. He would remind her, without a doubt, that she was also someone worth choosing things for.

The car rolled slowly through the tree-lined streets, the windows half down. The warm, lazy air carried the sound of children shouting, birds singing from telephone wires, and the distant hum of a lawnmower. As Alina turned the corner near the park, something bright and cheerful flashed in the corner of her vision.

An ice-cream truck.

It was parked right by the park gate, a little box of happiness painted in swirls of white, pink, and blue. A soft, tinny bell chimed over and over, drawing a small crowd of children like moths to a flame. Alina’s foot lifted off the gas almost on its own. For a long moment, she just watched. She saw kids clutching cones piled high with swirls, their faces already smudged with chocolate, their smiles wide and carefree. She heard parents laughing, calling out, "Don’t let it drip!"

A warm, impulsive thought bloomed quietly in her chest.

"Should we go into the park?" she asked, turning her head just enough to glance at Dante.

He looked out the window at the green space, then back at her. A simple nod. "Okay."

In the back seat, the boys, who had been settling into a quiet, post-shopping drowsiness, immediately perked up. You could almost see the excitement sparking back to life in their tired eyes.

"Yes," Lucien said, his voice trying for calm but edged with instant interest.

Sable didn’t even try to hide it. He bounced gently against his car seat straps, a little "oh!" escaping him.

Alina found a spot to park near the entrance. Together, she and Dante unbuckled the boys and helped them down onto the sun-warmed pavement. The park unfolded before them, smelling of freshly cut grass, dry earth, and that sweet, sugary scent now carried on the breeze. Kids ran past chasing bubbles, laughter ribboning through the air. A dog barked a happy, rhythmic bark nearby.

They hadn’t taken three steps onto the path when Sable stopped dead.

His little hand came up, one finger pointing straight ahead, his whole body perfectly still. His eyes were huge, fixed on the colorful truck. "What’s that?" he breathed, his voice full of pure, unvarnished awe.

Alina followed his gaze and felt her smile soften. The truck stood there like an illustration from the happiest story. It had pictures of fantastical sundaes and giant cones, and a painted chocolate swirl so thick and glossy it looked like you could scoop it off with your finger.

Sable stared, utterly captivated. All around them, other children were holding these magical, cold treats, licking them with serious concentration, their cheeks and chins decorated with evidence of their joy. He had never seen, never even imagined, such a thing. He swallowed hard.

Alina crouched down beside him, the gravel of the path shifting under her shoes. "That’s called ice cream," she explained, her voice gentle. "It comes in lots of flavors, like chocolate, or vanilla, or strawberry. It’s very sweet. And," she added with a little smile, "it’s very, very cold."

"Cold?" Sable repeated, his head tilting in that curious, bird-like way of his. The concept seemed to puzzle him as much as the colors delighted him.

"Yes," she laughed softly. "Like winter, but in your mouth."

Dante had been observing the scene silently. His eyes scanned the human children again, healthy and robust, enjoying a simple pleasure. Then he looked at his own boys, who were much stronger than normal human babies. The last traces of caution faded. He spoke with calm finality. "Let’s get them some. The sun is warm. The cold won’t hurt them."

Alina looked up at him, a flicker of surprise giving way to a wave of affection. She hadn’t even had to ask. "Alright," she agreed, her voice warm.

They walked toward the truck together, a little family unit moving against the flow of kids running back to the swings. Sable stayed glued to Alina’s side, his small hand wrapped tightly around two of her fingers, his eyes darting nervously between the painted promises on the truck and the real, dripping miracles in children’s hands. Lucien walked with more composure, but his serious expression couldn’t hide the way his gaze kept drifting back to the glowing freezer inside the service window.

The vendor, a man with a kind face and a striped apron, leaned out. "What’ll it be, folks?"

Alina looked down at her boys. "What flavor would you like? Chocolate or vanilla?"