The Little Things

There is an ice cream house in the center of Mattituck (I love going out to the North Fork of Long Island) called the Magic House, and I always order two scoops of Black Cherry Chocolate Bourbon.  Can you beat that for a title?  It’s the little things in life that make it so worthwhile.  I don’t know how they get that bourbon flavor into an ice cream, but it would be too expensive if it were real bourbon.

Yes, the little things, like the smile on a four-year-old or a seventy-year old.  The young one never tasted strawberry ice cream before, and the older one recalls her first taste of whiskey.  That was terrible stuff, right?  I made sure when my sons asked for a taste of hard liquor at about nine years of age I gave it to them, (much to the upset of their mother) because they never asked for it again.  It’s not made for young taste buds.

Of course, we skirt damnation often in life, as we pray to avoid, and surviving to adulthood is an accomplishment.  We never think of it that way, but we miss so much of what we’ve really done.  Done with the help of God, of course.

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