Two Scoops 

Be greedy sometimes. Let the warm summer sun kiss both shoulders. Dive into a mud puddle with reckless abandon, then laugh at the mess you’ve made of everything. 

Don’t let your ice cream melt. 

Enjoy life. And then enjoy it some more. Get two scoops.

I notice the rain and clouds, the beach, the trees more than ever. The unbearable humidity. The freezing December mornings wrapped in jacket after jacket. I stand soaked, unprotected, dripping at my front door, almost daily as if my thoughts have become a monsoon of disappointment . I know those days well when everything on you is heavy.

It’s time for me to remember joy. To be childlike and childish again running down Swanson street, in the hot sun of the south, with sticky fingers holding the money grandma gathered together from her purse, in line behind the chorus of black girls and boys all wanting ice cream.

I miss being young when joy comes so easily, standing in line, waiting for a double scooped of goodness today.


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