Summer Sighs

For the past few days I’ve been wanting ice cream at night. It’s summer. Ninety degrees. Humid. Correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t this the time when the ice cream trucks should be making their rounds? But have they? Nope. Not a once.

So frustrating. I started out wanting a vanilla malt milkshake. Progressed to a dusty road sundae. Now I’d really like some soft serve with chocolate sprinkles. Alas, they are yet again nowhere to be seen. I haven’t heard the ding or the silly songs in the distance. I haven’t been stuck behind them in my travels. They’ve vanished off the face of the planet.

Ah ha! That’s it. The explanation of where all the ice cream trucks have gone. They’ve been abducted by sugar-deprived aliens. Whisked away to the far reaches of the universe. Where oh where is Dr. Who when you need him? He could easily ensconce me in the TARDIS and take us hurtling after them. We could feast on all the ice cream we wanted and then be transported back within five seconds after departing. But is he around either? No, of course not.

Some days it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed. Especially when it’s too hot to be proactive and go in search of the coveted ice cream instead of wiling away the hours, waiting for it to appear at my door.