Wait. But it’s February. I guess this time thing is moving faster than I can keep up with it. I’m a very slow runner, which makes me wonder how I ever survived playing rugby. But that’s a completely different thought.
My anachronism aside… there’s also the other part of this title to consider. Ice Cream. I totally scream for it. But what’s so amazing about it in the middle of winter?
Let’s see… ice cream in the summer. It’s more socially acceptable to get your hands and face sticky with melty sweet stuff. I haven’t looked like that eating ice cream for at least two decades. I was a mess and germophobe back then, although I doubt you could tell from the state of my room lately. Ice cream offers a sweet and cool respite from the summer heat. If you’re like me, and have an August birthday – you know how brutal those summer dog days can be. Ironic, I’m a Leo… and I’m born in the year of the Dog. Sweet irony. No wonder I’m under mental stress so often. One side of my brain is constantly chasing after the other.
But I digress. I just wanted to post about the fact that the guy and I went out on an errand, and in the midst of errands, we ended up in front of a Carvel and had ice cream cones.
It was cool refreshment in the baking heat of my car and the bright sunlight – if you close your eyes, you can certainly imagine it’s summer, except I’m wearing far more layers.
He had the sticky chocolately mustache – not I.