How to eat an ice cream cone (its an art)
Lick the top.
Take a small bite.
Wipe the face.
Nibble at the cone.
All to soon you are left want more
Little things: ice cream in a cone, in the hole shops, family walks downtown, dandelions to make wishes on, wearing flip-flops, wind blowing in your hair, window shoppin’, talking like the British, dangling your feet on the side of the pool, summer
I want to remember these days. I want to remember stealing cookie dough from the bowl and licking our fingers. I want to remember the spontaneous outburst of songs. And how we all sang on the top of our lungs. I want to remember the laughter as we jumped on the trampoline and the light that shone through our hair. I want to remember the car rides where we rolled down the windows and lat our hair get blown by the wind. I want to remember the feeling of strumming a note on the guitar. I want to remember eating watermelon on the back porch with juice running down our faces. And how the little feet were brown from running bare. I want to remember the joy that comes with the dawning of spring and feeling I have when I realize summer is around the corner. When I am older I want to tell my children of the games and fun we had. I do not want to forget my thoughts. I want to remember these days.