At the weekend, the sun came out, bright and round and hotter than it had been for months. To my son, this meant one thing - ice cream! Everywhere we went, he rapidly sought out the van or the café, like an ice cream-seeking missile. He always opts for the same thing - a small cone with a flake - and yet it still takes him an age of deliberation to make his choice. Even the smallest ice cream melts over his hands and inevitably coats his cheeky smile in white. He sits, legs outstretched in front of him, and licks at his ice cream, seemingly not noticing it dripping on to his clothes, his skin. For a short while, he is engrossed; the perfect picture of summer and childhood.
At the weekend, there was ice cream. My son loves ice cream. I love my son.
This is my entry into this week's Gallery by Tara Cain at Sticky Fingers.
What a cutie :) Lovely photo!
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