It’s 9:18 p.m. and it’s 87 degrees in my house. Earlier today, the temperatures crept dangerously close to 100, as the first heat wave of the year left people scrambling for the air-conditioned confines of their offices, movie theaters, cars and (though I certainly don’t have one) pools. It’s the kind of heat that results in two kinds of conversations:
1) “Holy crap, it’s hot.”
2) “Holy crap, it’s hot. Damn global warming.”
Okay, three conversations: “Global warming. Global warming. Global. Warming. Glowarm.” (You get the idea.)
After picking up K-Man from school (a bit late because of a meeting), we started a new tradition for smoking hot days. No, we didn’t start any fires (though, that would have been totally apropos). We went out for ice cream.
I know that this isn’t any sort of huge parenting discovery. I’m not going to be screaming “KIDS LOVE ICE CREAM!” from the top of any mountaintops. I’m not going to be winning awards for my genius. But, there really is just something about sharing a scoop of ice cream with your kid on a screaming hot day.
Last summer, K wasn’t yet two. So, while he may have loved a taste of the good stuff, the opportunity to sit outside the ice cream store and have a conversation about his day wasn’t quite there yet. (Though, of course, he’s tremendously advanced for his age.)
Today, though, was completely different. We sat outside and K-Man told me all about his day. He told me about Charlie (“his buddy”), Elijah (“he’s funny”), Luca (“he’s so cute”) and pretty much every other kid in his little school. As we alternated scoops of French Vanilla he started his every taste with, “Thank you for sharing ice cream with me, Daddy.” You’re welcome little man.
When I was a kid, I used to make ice cream with my mom and brother. We had one of those old ice cream makers with the big crank on top, and we’d make peach ice cream. (Or maybe we only did it once, but damnit, I remember.) Not only that – I’m a bit of an ice cream freak. It’s probably my favorite dessert and I’d be happy to have some every single day. (And sometimes do.)
As we sat outside the ice cream shop, I felt like we were starting a great, lifelong tradition. (A single scoop was nearly two bucks, by the way. The same scoop when I was a kid was 15 cents. Oy.) I could just imagine today being the first “ice cream chat” of thousands (upon thousands). I imagine that someday we’ll talk about finals, sports, music, girlfriends and more. It just felt like there was a different kind of bond forming with each spoonful.
I hate extreme weather conditions, and I really hate extreme heat waves. (At least it’s a dry heat.) That being said, while today was really hot – it ended up being pretty cool.