My girls were home sick from school today. Enzo cut a lonely figure walking to the car at pick-up time. As he was climbing in I recognized the truth about the colorful oversize truck parked behind me. It was a snow cone truck, and it was open for business.
Maybe it was because he didn’t beg (or even ask) Maybe it was because I had just been doing Halloween research and so his pledge to go as The Doctor was fresh in my mind (He’s not a particularly devoted Doctor fan, but he is particularly devoted to choosing things that make other’s happy. In this instance, me) Maybe it was that lonely figure from before. Whatever the reason, I knew one thing; I wanted my boy to have a snow cone.
It is a rare occasion that I have cash on my person. It was a stroke of luck that a craigslist transaction from the previous weekend left me with a spare fiver.
I watched him in my side mirror. The smile I felt on my face he danced in line grew to double when his turn came and I saw him stretch to reach the window.
As he returned to the car my change flopped half-in half-out of the pocket of his red denim shorts. Maybe that’s why I wanted to buy him a snow cone. Those are my favorite shorts. They look straight out of a 60″s beach movie with their straight silhouette and frayed hem. Every time he wears them I count my lucky stars he’s willing to wear what I chose for him.
When he got to the car he announced “I got Tiger’s Blood!”
That’s my boy, choosing the best flavor like a champ. Then he said “Ahhh, there’s nothing better than a cold treat on a hot day,” and later; “Don’t worry mom, I won’t brag to the other kids about this.”
Every word out of his red stained mouth affirmed to me that I had made the right decision. An over priced snow cone has never made me so happy.