Simple Pleasures: A Tale of Childhood Regression

Mmmmm delicious.

I sit here (“here” meaning the place where I currently am, not anywhere else, in case that needed to be cleared up) enjoying a tasty soft-serve ice cream, which I have just purchased from none other than Mr. Whippy.

Now, you may or may not know what Mr. Whippy is. Whether you do or don’t, there’s a pretty good chance that you probably have an ice cream truck in your area. Whether that truck is called Mr. Whippy, or Frosty Boy, or The Ice Cream Guy, or Captain Shove This In Your Face, the experience is always the same: awesome.

Before this very moment, I can’t remember the last time I had one of these things. (I got the sherbert one this time. You know the one I mean, with the pink sherbert on it). Even though I don’t know when my last one of these was, I know that these ice creams were a huge part of my younger years. A huge part. A HUGE part.

As with a large number of people who grew up in New Zealand, a disproportionate amount of my life was spent on or near a beach. There was always sand, there was always water, and there was always ice cream.

But now, although I am only in my mid-twenties, I have a career, a mortgage, an upcoming wedding, and a sometimes-overwhelming amalgam of responsibilities plugging up my brain and flashing in front of my face.

But not right now. Right now is different. Right now is special. Right now I’m sitting in a comfortable chair, slowly sampling a perfect reminder of my past years.

This is truly one of those total emotional childhood regression moments. I’m a delighted child right now. From the instant I heard the truck coming down the street with that familiar “Doo doo doo doo doo doo” (okay so the tune doesn’t come across very well in writing), to the moment I put my lips up to taste the creamy sherberty goodness, it was like the last ten or twenty years of my life never happened.

However, as satisfying and liberating as the regression feels, I’ve just finished the ice cream, and now it’s back to reality. It’s back to mortgages and jobs and traffic jams and bank accounts (and thanks to the ice cream, it’s back to adult digestion issues).

Just thought I would share this moment with you, as seemingly pointless as it is.

In hindsight, I should’ve taken a photo of the ice cream.


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