Spring is my favorite time of year, but there’s a downside.
On nice days, an “ice cream” truck parks in front of my apartment building, which means I have to see innocent kids eating all sorts of concoctions full of synthetic ingredients.
For every “Daddy, Daddy, I want ice cream,” I wish I could counter with “Daddy, Daddy, don’t do it, it’s full of chemicals. There’s a supermarket five blocks away that sells delicious, chemical-free ice cream.”
Alas, I silently continue on my way.