Little feather.
Elsy found a feather attached to my mom's shoe. She asked for it and has held onto it for quite some time. I asked her what kind of feather it was. She told me:
"It's a bird feather."
Yup, she's my kid alright.
Knife Sharpener.
So I am used to the soft chimes that you hear in the neighborhood when the ice cream truck comes by. This year we already had three visits, mostly on cold or rainy moments of the day. This was in contrast to the infrequent visits to our old neighborhood when I was a child. In addition, we were too poor to really enjoy a cone of soft ice cream when it did show up so I never built up that sense of tradition that others would share with their children. As suck, when the truck does drive by, I don't rush out to grab a cone for my kids. Also, the pandemic does not help either. Still, maybe one day this summer we will indulge our kids. Maybe. Oh, but that was beside the point. Today I heard the ringing of a bell. This was not the sound I'm used to for an ice cream truck so I decided to investigate with Serena. As the truck drive by, I wondered to myself how such a small truck could be used to sell ice cream much less any kind of food. But then it dawned on me: this was not a food tru
Comments
Post a Comment