Picture this: A curly-haired, raspy-voiced six-year-old (me) with an insatiable sweet tooth…
It’s the summer of 1989 in good ‘ol P-Town (aka: my hometown of Placentia, CA). Per our daily it’s-hot-as-hell-and-there’s-no-A/C ritual, we’re swimming in my backyard pool that’s FILLED to the brim with kids from around the neighborhood. Everyone is laughing and splashing about, playing an epic game of Marco Polo, when suddenly—like a dog who hears a high-pitched sound undetectable by anyone else—I pop up from the water, lurch myself onto the pool deck and charge into the house screaming, “ICE CREAM MAAANNNNNNNN!”
Leaving puddles of water in my wake and a look of complete horror on my mom’s face, I run to my room, grab my piggy bank, then proceed out the front door, barefoot, dripping wet and with one hell of a ruffled-bottom-one-piece wedgy. Determined to catch that ice cream truck and willing to chase after it, no matter how many obstacles or miles were in the way or how ridiculous I might have looked, nothing was going to come between me and that damn popsicle (and Lemonheads—obviously).
Just a little reminder to keep chasing those dreams and to let go of what other people think or how crazy you look in the process. The journey may be slippery, but the reward promises to be oh-so-sweet!
Happy hump day!
– S A D Y E E V Y N R E I S H