ICE CREAM

I had gone to the Main Beach to have my coffee, and enjoy my newspaper – if that is even possible these days. It was about 11:00 a.m., and there were only a few potential swimmers present.

It was the first truly hot day. Already in the low eighties, and everyone seemed delighted to enjoy a ninety plus day.

I saw a young mother arrive as if prepared to conquer a small island. She was toting a cooler, a purse the size of Utah, several towels, and a large blanket, as well as three children all under the age of five.

She was determined to have a good day. I knew that from the great grimace smeared across her face. She was going to give these kids some Lake Michigan magic if it killed her.

I was pleased to see a young gangly kid on a bike, selling ice cream from the attached cooler in the front. He rang his bell diligently, just as I remembered. It was a nostalgic and most pleasant sight. All three kids began to leap into the air and scream of their need for ice cream. The mother looked at the young man with a stare that could have felled a buffalo, and gave him the nine dollars for three small cones. 

The young mother took each of her children by the hand into the toilet, a smart move considering the length of the journey to get near the castle making sand and water. By the time the foursome reemerged, all three kids were hysterical, as their ice cream cones were running down their arms to their elbows.

She finally calmed them down with the promise of another one at the end of their day at the beach. She knew full well the biking bandit would be long gone, and her weary children hopefully too tired to complain. They headed out, and I felt such compassion and respect for this woman, who was only seeking to be a good mother.

My life in these retirement days, feels just like a melting ice cream cone. I just can’t devour it with the speed required. So in the spirit and wisdom of our young Mom, I promise myself another one at the end of the day.