A/N: Hope all of you who celebrated Thanksgiving have not eaten too much! I
put a new picture on my bio page for you, with a brief explanation of
Thanksgiving for all of you (like Legolas) who aren't sure what exactly
Thanksgiving is. Thank you all from me for all of your encouragement. You
are all very special to me.
Now on to another little version of feasting, but this time with a summertime flare.
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Chapter 16 Pick Your Poison
On the way home from school, I pass a group of children standing around the side door of a large delivery-style truck. They are clutching money in the palms of their little hands, ready to exchange the money for the potions they crave so deeply. The "dealer" inside the truck is rapidly swapping his product for their currency, anxious to move on to the next group of innocents.
His wares are described in tantalizing pictures drawn garishly on the sides of the delivery truck. Enchanting music wafts through the air, calling like the Pied Piper for all to come and partake of the delicacies he offers. Even Little Pip is unable to defeat the temptation of his elixirs.
"Momma, can we stop? Please?" she asks.
The Ice Cream Man cometh.
"Ok," I reply. I also am addicted to his panaceas. The stash he peddles includes all my old favorites. Orange Popups, Rainbow Popsicles, Cremesicles, Fudgsicles, Heath bars, shaved ice Snow Cones in a thousand different flavors, Firecracker Popsicles, Ice Cream Sandwiches, and Fruit Pops in cherry, grape, or orange flavors.
I park the van a little ways past the truck, climb out, and usher Little Pip and Legolas out of the back. I give each of them a dollar's worth of change. We move to the curb, waiting for him to approach. A couple of little girls from the house next door come out to join us.
"Hi, Christie! Hi, Julie!" calls Little Pip, greeting them.
"Hi!" they answer in unison, waving and addressing us all together. Then the one on the left asks, "Who's your friend?"
"This is Legolas. He's living at our house for the summer. He's from Sweden," says Little Pip, repeating our previously rehearsed lines.
"Switzerland, dear, he's from Switzerland," I hastily correct.
"It'z reely koeld dere," adds Legolas, right on cue.
"Do you have ice cream there?" asks Christie, her sandy brown ponytail bobbing.
"Ise Kreem?" Legolas asks, turning to me with his eyebrow raised.
"Say 'No, it's too cold'," I whisper.
"Noe, we due not hav ise kreem dere," he repeats. "It iz tu koeld."
"That's too bad," says Julie.
About this time the Ice Cream Man spots us, so he quickly finishes his dealings with his current crowd, who are slowly and contentedly wandering away from his truck. He cranks up the volume on the tinny stereo speakers and proceeds toward us at a crawl, rambling along to the sounds of "The Entertainer."
He slowly passes us, standing there so patiently, thereby allowing us the best part of the whole experience--the rush of adrenaline that occurs when we suddenly think he might not have seen us and has left us behind.
The race is on. I lead them, experiencing the first of the highs for the day. The four of us dash madly along after the truck, hollering wildly the words all Ice Cream Men live to hear coming from the mouths of little girls worldwide:
"WAIT, MR. ICE CREAM MAN! WAIT FOR US!"
That's right, I said 4 of us. The ladies are 6 paces off the starting line at the curb when Legolas realizes he has been left on the blocks. In 2 strides he is on us, 3 and he is in the lead.
As the truck gets fifty yards in front of us, as required by the Ice Cream Man Training Manual, page 26, the man inside pushes the brakes and ambles slowly to a stop. The girls and I come to a panting halt at the side door 3 seconds later, just as described on page 30 under "Expected Behavior of Juvenile Customers."
Legolas, however, is unfamiliar with the custom, much less the Training Manual. He's past the truck by another 10 paces before he realizes he is no longer "winning," as we have stopped. He sheepishly wanders back to us, scuffing his toes on the ground, heading to me at the end of the line.
Little Pip hangs back with me, contemplating whether she will order an Ice Cream Sandwich or have a Snowcone without any flavoring on it. Strange kid, I know. She lets Julie and Christie step up to the window in front of her.
"I'll have a Fudgsicle," says Julie. Confident kid, she knows what remedy suits her best.
"And I want a Rainbow Pop, please," says Christie, who also knows her habit well.
Little Pip decides to sedate herself with the Ice Cream Sandwich, holding the shaved ice for another day. She hands over her 4 quarters and accepts her paper wrapped fix.
It's my turn. I contemplate the Orange Popup. I imagine it's creamy taste dripping down the sides of the cardboard tube holder as I lick it up. Somehow, the thought that I could make one at home with one of those little cardboard insides of a roll of toilet paper squashes the idea.
I think I'll just have a Drumstick. It better suits my nutty personality.
"How about you?" the Ice Cream Man asks Legolas, eyeing him funny as if not sure he should have ended his sentence with "sir" or "ma'am." It's the long blonde hair, fools people all the time. The unisex jeans and T-shirt don't give any clues really either.
Legolas looks again at the poisons the other of us drugheads are savoring. Our individual experiences are affecting our own personal trips, with some of us experiencing our highs quickly like Julie who's Fudgsicle is now merely a skin and bones wooden stick, to Little Pip who has spent the last 3 minutes reading the jokes printed on the side of her Ice Cream Sandwich wrapper.
"Come on, Honey, pick something," says helpful Mr. Ice Cream Man, taking a chance that this fine looking specimen of a customer might just be of the female gender after all. Isn't it a well know fact that women can never make up their minds?
Legolas glares at him, then turns to me and asks," Whut iz an ise kream?" He's asked me before, but in my haste to get my ultimate desire, I neglected to answer him. Just like a typical crackhead, I've abandoned my family to get my hit and anesthetize my need.
"Look at the pictures on the side of the truck, Legolas," I tell him. "Ice Cream is a sweet treat, very cold, that you eat mostly in the summertime. You can try any of these you want. Just tell the Ice Cream Man and he will get it for you."
"Dey all luuk guud," Legolas contemplates, studying the pictures.
"Would you like a bite of mine?" I ask, proffering the goods towards him. He eyeballs the Drumstick's waffle cone, the vanilla ice cream, the little bit of chocolate drizzled and hardened over the end with the peanuts interspersed.
"Whut deed u sae dat iz caelld?" he asks before taking a tiny bite, nibbling with just his front teeth. He gets mostly vanilla with a small chunk of cone.
"Drumstick," I answer.
"I thot a druem steek wuz a peece of cheekin?" he inquires, puzzled. "Dat dose not taest like cheekin."
"That is a drumstick, too!" pipes in Little Pip. "Want to try my Ice Cream Sandwich?"
"Okae," he says, returning my Drumstick. Little Pip helps him peel down the paper, and then he takes a tiny bite.
"What do you think?" Little Pip asks him.
"I doent taest eni peenut budder in dere," he replies, seemingly surprised. I guess I'll have to feed him something for lunch besides peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Julie has nothing left but a wooden stick to offer, though he does manage to get a bite of the red cherry part of Christie's Rainbow Pop.
"Do you know what you want yet?" asks Mr. Ice Cream Man, getting impatient to move on. I guess there are not any chapters in the Training Manual on what to do with a grownup who can't choose his poison.
Legolas cocks his head, putting one last thought into his decision. "I weel hav whut she haz," he announces, pointing his finger at my Drumstick.
Mr. Ice Cream Man hands over the goods and Legolas hands over his money with a bit of prompting. He still doesn't quite get this currency exchange thing we do. Apparently Middle earth does more of a barter and trade with goods than with coins.
I unwrap the cone for him, and we turn to make our way back to the van as Mr. Ice Cream Man cranks up the volume once again and pulls away. I haven't taken 3 steps when the inevitable occurs. I hear a startled," OOOhhhhh. . . . !" behind me.
I look back to find the Prance holding the chocolate drizzled waffle cone, staring between his feet at the vanilla, chocolate drizzled, crushed peanut top of his Drumstick.
"Whoooepz!" he says.
"Oh, no! Legolas, I'm sorry!"
"I wuz jest leekin da dreepy paert oef da sied," he pauses, using his tongue to demonstrate with the now empty cone, "an luuk whut haeppnd!" he finishes, sweeping his other arm toward the ground in a dramatic flare.
A flash of gold runs past me, skreeching to a halt at the Prance's feet. Christie's golden retriever apparently didn't miss it. He is lapping up the mess at Legolas' feet like it is manna from Heaven.
"An noew dat doeg iz eetin my ise kreem!" Legolas whines.
In the distance, I can still hear the sounds of the Ice Cream Man's tinny music. "Hurry, Legolas, if we move quickly we can catch him and get another one."
I holler to Little Pip to get in the van, only to find Legolas has already dropped the rest of his cone to Christie's dog and has taken off running down the middle of the street. Running myself in the opposite direction, I jump into the driver's seat and take off after him. In my mind's eye I can see the green flag waving, indicating the race is on its way.
It is no small miracle he isn't hit by a car on the way, running full out like that down the center line, blonde mane flying behind him, legs pumping, feet barely touching the ground. He beats me to the Ice Cream truck by a full 30 seconds.
"Whut tuuk u soe loeng?" he asks. He's not even breathing hard. I took the van, and I am still panting like a racehorse.
"Nevermind," I tell him. After all, it takes skill and talent to chase madly down the street in a van, dodging children and pets, following blindly behind an elf with a mission and keeping my Drumstick from dripping down my arm at the same time.
"Back so soon?" grins Mr. Ice Cream Man. "Just couldn't get enough of me, could you Honey?" He winks at Legolas. "What can I get for you this time?"
"I gess I weel hav anuthr won of dose," Legolas sighs, pointing to what is left of my Drumstick dejectedly.
"What about a fudge dipped soft cone, Legolas?" asks Little Pip, pointing at the picture on the machine that makes the soft dip ice cream. "That one won't fall off on you."
"MMMmmmmm. . . . dat DUZ luuk guud!" exclaims the Prance. " I weel hav wone of doze, pleeze."
"Chocolate, or vanilla?" asks Mr. Ice Cream Man.
Legolas eyes me, confused. "Dis ez haerd," he says. "Hoew due u noe whut tu peek?"
"Experience, dear. It's a developed habit." I turn to Mr. Ice Cream Man, saying," Make it a chocolate with chocolate fudge dip." Glancing back at Legolas, knowing his own propensity for the Dark Sweet Lord of my earth, I add, "Better put it in a chocolate drizzled waffle cone too."
Mr. Ice Cream Man gives me a knowing smile, perfectly aware that chocolate is the secret to a woman's heart. He leers a little as he leans forward to gaze directly into Legolas' blue eyes. "It really is your first time, isn't it sweetheart?" he asks suggestively.
Legolas blinks, unsure. "Weel, I deed hav dat othur won, bud I droepd it an da doeggie got it," he answers innocently.
With a small chuckle, Mr. Ice Cream Man turns and pulls the handle on the soft serve machine. Legolas watches dumbfounded as the chocolate ice cream begins to fold softly into the waffle cone. As Mr. Ice Cream Man hands Legolas the cone confection, his hand lingers a bit against Legolas' long fingers, and he asks, "You've really never done this before?"
"I hav neber dun enithang like dis befour!" answers Legolas excitedly, so wrapped up in staring at the cone that he totally misses what is inferred.
I give Mr. Ice Cream Man a glare. I would have smacked his hand if he hadn't moved it before I could reach him. He straightens up, and I push between them to hastily pay, just to keep him from touching Legolas again.
Before we can climb back into the van, the chocolate dipped ice cream is gone, waffle cone and all. Legolas sticks each of his long fingers into his mouth, sucking each one clean. As he finishes the pinkie finger on his left hand, he suddenly bends forward in the seat, clutching his head between his hands.
"UUUGGGggghhhhh. . . ." he moans.
Whoa, nothing like having your first Elvish Ice Cream Headache.
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Responses to Reviewers:
TreeHugger: *sounds of grumbling* I sed I doent waent tu! *sound of dragging feet* I sed I em maed at her! *Legolas crosses his arms as al makes him sit down at the computer *She doent lub me enimoer, she sed soe hersef! An I em noet Eendiena Joenz! But Legolas, I do like her idea about letting Araporn just arrest Sauron and throw him in jail. I especially like the idea of her vacuuming my house. Here, talk to Elu instead, ok?
Elu: Com liv hear, Elu! I weel let u plae wid Leedle Peepz ruebbr dueky. An da Baerbeez. Jest doent brang dat womin-steelin maenga maen wid u. *siehz* My hart eez broak een tu.
leail: Dat shoew abot kraeonz IZ guud! I trie to wach Meestr Roegerz eberydae, an Seaseme Streat tu.
Lady Eirte: I leernd hoew miny droepz of wader wuld fiet on a peeny on Zuum!, an Leddle Peep waches Libertee Kiedz ebery dae wid me. I like dem all!
SarWolf Sanpe: *huegz fur u!* PeeBeaEss Rox!
PuterPatty: I due lub Danieal Tiegr, an X duz akt like Mithranduir sumtiemz. U deed a grate joeb seenigin ur soeng, melamin! I lub grean da baest. Ai, Valar, da Loeng Shaenk Show AGIN?! *blueshez* I hoep dat neber gitz on kabel.
Ariliyn: yae! Nuembr Seax! I thank al wached PeeBeaEss alot beafour I kaem aloeng. I LIKE da Taletuebeez. . .
Phoenix Flight: Yaes, I due nead tu wurk oen my spaellin, but al taekz guud kaer of me an I doen't thank I nead enithang aelse. *al swipes keyboard from Legolas* Go get something to drink and come right back, ok baby? *Legolas wanders off* PF, he is quite quick on the uptake-the problem seems to be in getting his interest. He feels he has all the time in the world, and sees no reason to rush things. Sometimes I think the knock on the head may still be affecting him too. He's just a big kid at heart.
Iz it my tuern agin? Okae. . . .
Gershwin: *blueshz* she kaeld me Sweat Cheakz! Oeh, yeaah, I hab sum baddle skarz. Da fuerst tiem I shoed Gameli hoew tu shuut my boe an aroz, he puet dat thang rite in my . . . wile I wuz settin up da taergit! I hoep u feal bedder!
Magical Rachel: Hear iz sum Elvis fur u: Amin autien rath. Dat meenz I em goen tu bed noew. An a tiep fur u-doent eet dose elf kuukeez en ur bed, cuz dose kruemblz weel keap u awaek all nite.
Newmoon: al letz me wach TV fur jest a leedle wile eech dae. We ar vary bizy an goen bie bie in da vaen alot. I lub da Yung and da Raestlass, an Suervievr.
Loopy4_1: I em not warried all da tiem. I hav noet haed anibudy trie tu juemp my boenz hear, but Yeas Deer meekz shure eberybuddy haz dere oewn poark choep or chikn whin we eet so we due not hav tu shaer. Dat wae nobuddy fites at da deener taeble ober da boenz.
Katherine: O.O Noen of da she-elvez eber feall oen me, but dey triyed. Irena oeffrd tu likk my buutz noet tu loeng ago, an da mael elvs sumtiemz sed I leed a faerytell lief.
ithinkineedanewname: I thank I like Beeg Bierd da baest. He iz tael like me, an hez feat ar beeg like mien tu. I like Ealmo tu. al gav me al leedle Ealmo and a leddle Beeg Bierd tu keap oen my bed!
The Two Princesses: al duz taek guud kaer of me. She saeng da Aaerdvard soeng fur da cheldreen'z searmon at chuerch won tiem, in frunt of eberybuddy! I foeund dat al alsoe weel sae yaes tu alot of thangz if u giv her sum chokolit an whine beafour u akz her-Yeas Deer tot me dat. Ar ur feeshz growen yeat? Duz da leddlest pranciss feal bedder?
Eileen: I em glaed u ar bak! U kin leern alot oen SeaSeme Streat. *huegz*
Seaweed: Hae Seaweed! Hae Gameli! I'v neber sean a maelt bear rox, doe al iz taekin me rueby deegin oen Friedae. I lub Ealmo tu!
Stimpy: al sez dat da aerm akshun iz a leedle skeery on dat 6 eench akshun feegur of me. Meestr Roegrz iz noet all dere, sumtiemz he goes tu da Laend of Maek-Beakeeve an sumtiemz tu da kraeon faktury and sumtiemz tu da wader treetmant plaent!
Nancing Elf: I WUZ NOET LOEST! I WUZN'T MEESING ETHR! I wuz rite dere all da tiem. *waevz tu Gwibess Jr.* Hae Gwibess! *bloez keesez tu NE!* I meesd u! OOOOoooo! U maek a guud keetie! Due dat agin! *puerzzzz* OOOOoooo! Due id agin!
Endomiel: Dat Saem I em! Dat Saem I em. I weel tael dat tu da Hoebbitz, if we eber fiend dem agin whin I goe bak.
JastaElf: *THUNK* Oh, sorry! He saw "Honeybun of Love" and now he's out cold on the floor! *al fans Legolas* Get up! *hueh?* Get up!! You're not done yet! *okae* *THUNK* Whoa, there he goes again-happened as he read about being turned into a . . .*al shudders* Nevermind. Get up Legolas! *rubz haed* Hae Jaesta! Hae Ada! U keap da Viktoreea'z Seekrit Kateloeg in da bafruum? Whuteber fur? We keap owrz bie da pone, so al kin oerdur faestr. Thangz I weel noet due liest thang nuembr 3: Due noet bie won of Viktoreea's Seekrit toeps fur al frum unlaess u bie a boettm tu. Da laedee on TV sed dat.
laure: Whut eez a rabbit faengurl? We hav broewn buenniez een our frunt yaerd, an Leedle Peep haz a wite rabbid at skool. Noen of dem chaesz me, doe. . .
Skye Rocket: Thaenkz! I em glaed u lub my lief!
Dunkelelbe aka Anja: Dere u ar! I thot u got loest! But u new whur u wear da hole tiem I bet. al deed not nead tu sweech oef da buebblz, I hav elvis eersz an I culd here her jest fien.
IRENA: DA LAENGWEDGE OF LUB?? U MUEST BEA UZIN DA RONG ELVIS TRAENZLATER. Deed u git urz frum Graecelaend? Empoestrz! Shuld I braeng my ruebbr dueky? An whut deed al sae dat iz noet truew abot u? al sez she lubz ur stueff tu. Soe due I. Legolas, she is talking about her writing and my writing, you know, like the fanfiction, not THAT stuff! Whut stueff? You know, like the angel wings, and the bubbles, and the leather. . . .OOOOooooohhhhh. . O.O
Estina: I muest goe bak Dec 18th. al iz gedding da tiektz oen Friedae. I hav soe muech tu tael u beafour I goe! Thaenkz fur tipin tu me!
blue eyed babe: Hae! Itz guud tu sea u! Glaed u maed it hear! I doent noe if I culd eet graepz 24/7 (dey giv me turrable dierreea), but thaenkz fur da oeffr. *huegz fur u!*
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Hope you all enjoyed the visit to another day in Legolas' life! He loves to hear from you, so be sure to leave him a little note to tell him you stopped by. I promise he will answer you back! Do it quick, I have another chapter almost finished for you, and time is passing quickly!
Now on to another little version of feasting, but this time with a summertime flare.
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Chapter 16 Pick Your Poison
On the way home from school, I pass a group of children standing around the side door of a large delivery-style truck. They are clutching money in the palms of their little hands, ready to exchange the money for the potions they crave so deeply. The "dealer" inside the truck is rapidly swapping his product for their currency, anxious to move on to the next group of innocents.
His wares are described in tantalizing pictures drawn garishly on the sides of the delivery truck. Enchanting music wafts through the air, calling like the Pied Piper for all to come and partake of the delicacies he offers. Even Little Pip is unable to defeat the temptation of his elixirs.
"Momma, can we stop? Please?" she asks.
The Ice Cream Man cometh.
"Ok," I reply. I also am addicted to his panaceas. The stash he peddles includes all my old favorites. Orange Popups, Rainbow Popsicles, Cremesicles, Fudgsicles, Heath bars, shaved ice Snow Cones in a thousand different flavors, Firecracker Popsicles, Ice Cream Sandwiches, and Fruit Pops in cherry, grape, or orange flavors.
I park the van a little ways past the truck, climb out, and usher Little Pip and Legolas out of the back. I give each of them a dollar's worth of change. We move to the curb, waiting for him to approach. A couple of little girls from the house next door come out to join us.
"Hi, Christie! Hi, Julie!" calls Little Pip, greeting them.
"Hi!" they answer in unison, waving and addressing us all together. Then the one on the left asks, "Who's your friend?"
"This is Legolas. He's living at our house for the summer. He's from Sweden," says Little Pip, repeating our previously rehearsed lines.
"Switzerland, dear, he's from Switzerland," I hastily correct.
"It'z reely koeld dere," adds Legolas, right on cue.
"Do you have ice cream there?" asks Christie, her sandy brown ponytail bobbing.
"Ise Kreem?" Legolas asks, turning to me with his eyebrow raised.
"Say 'No, it's too cold'," I whisper.
"Noe, we due not hav ise kreem dere," he repeats. "It iz tu koeld."
"That's too bad," says Julie.
About this time the Ice Cream Man spots us, so he quickly finishes his dealings with his current crowd, who are slowly and contentedly wandering away from his truck. He cranks up the volume on the tinny stereo speakers and proceeds toward us at a crawl, rambling along to the sounds of "The Entertainer."
He slowly passes us, standing there so patiently, thereby allowing us the best part of the whole experience--the rush of adrenaline that occurs when we suddenly think he might not have seen us and has left us behind.
The race is on. I lead them, experiencing the first of the highs for the day. The four of us dash madly along after the truck, hollering wildly the words all Ice Cream Men live to hear coming from the mouths of little girls worldwide:
"WAIT, MR. ICE CREAM MAN! WAIT FOR US!"
That's right, I said 4 of us. The ladies are 6 paces off the starting line at the curb when Legolas realizes he has been left on the blocks. In 2 strides he is on us, 3 and he is in the lead.
As the truck gets fifty yards in front of us, as required by the Ice Cream Man Training Manual, page 26, the man inside pushes the brakes and ambles slowly to a stop. The girls and I come to a panting halt at the side door 3 seconds later, just as described on page 30 under "Expected Behavior of Juvenile Customers."
Legolas, however, is unfamiliar with the custom, much less the Training Manual. He's past the truck by another 10 paces before he realizes he is no longer "winning," as we have stopped. He sheepishly wanders back to us, scuffing his toes on the ground, heading to me at the end of the line.
Little Pip hangs back with me, contemplating whether she will order an Ice Cream Sandwich or have a Snowcone without any flavoring on it. Strange kid, I know. She lets Julie and Christie step up to the window in front of her.
"I'll have a Fudgsicle," says Julie. Confident kid, she knows what remedy suits her best.
"And I want a Rainbow Pop, please," says Christie, who also knows her habit well.
Little Pip decides to sedate herself with the Ice Cream Sandwich, holding the shaved ice for another day. She hands over her 4 quarters and accepts her paper wrapped fix.
It's my turn. I contemplate the Orange Popup. I imagine it's creamy taste dripping down the sides of the cardboard tube holder as I lick it up. Somehow, the thought that I could make one at home with one of those little cardboard insides of a roll of toilet paper squashes the idea.
I think I'll just have a Drumstick. It better suits my nutty personality.
"How about you?" the Ice Cream Man asks Legolas, eyeing him funny as if not sure he should have ended his sentence with "sir" or "ma'am." It's the long blonde hair, fools people all the time. The unisex jeans and T-shirt don't give any clues really either.
Legolas looks again at the poisons the other of us drugheads are savoring. Our individual experiences are affecting our own personal trips, with some of us experiencing our highs quickly like Julie who's Fudgsicle is now merely a skin and bones wooden stick, to Little Pip who has spent the last 3 minutes reading the jokes printed on the side of her Ice Cream Sandwich wrapper.
"Come on, Honey, pick something," says helpful Mr. Ice Cream Man, taking a chance that this fine looking specimen of a customer might just be of the female gender after all. Isn't it a well know fact that women can never make up their minds?
Legolas glares at him, then turns to me and asks," Whut iz an ise kream?" He's asked me before, but in my haste to get my ultimate desire, I neglected to answer him. Just like a typical crackhead, I've abandoned my family to get my hit and anesthetize my need.
"Look at the pictures on the side of the truck, Legolas," I tell him. "Ice Cream is a sweet treat, very cold, that you eat mostly in the summertime. You can try any of these you want. Just tell the Ice Cream Man and he will get it for you."
"Dey all luuk guud," Legolas contemplates, studying the pictures.
"Would you like a bite of mine?" I ask, proffering the goods towards him. He eyeballs the Drumstick's waffle cone, the vanilla ice cream, the little bit of chocolate drizzled and hardened over the end with the peanuts interspersed.
"Whut deed u sae dat iz caelld?" he asks before taking a tiny bite, nibbling with just his front teeth. He gets mostly vanilla with a small chunk of cone.
"Drumstick," I answer.
"I thot a druem steek wuz a peece of cheekin?" he inquires, puzzled. "Dat dose not taest like cheekin."
"That is a drumstick, too!" pipes in Little Pip. "Want to try my Ice Cream Sandwich?"
"Okae," he says, returning my Drumstick. Little Pip helps him peel down the paper, and then he takes a tiny bite.
"What do you think?" Little Pip asks him.
"I doent taest eni peenut budder in dere," he replies, seemingly surprised. I guess I'll have to feed him something for lunch besides peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Julie has nothing left but a wooden stick to offer, though he does manage to get a bite of the red cherry part of Christie's Rainbow Pop.
"Do you know what you want yet?" asks Mr. Ice Cream Man, getting impatient to move on. I guess there are not any chapters in the Training Manual on what to do with a grownup who can't choose his poison.
Legolas cocks his head, putting one last thought into his decision. "I weel hav whut she haz," he announces, pointing his finger at my Drumstick.
Mr. Ice Cream Man hands over the goods and Legolas hands over his money with a bit of prompting. He still doesn't quite get this currency exchange thing we do. Apparently Middle earth does more of a barter and trade with goods than with coins.
I unwrap the cone for him, and we turn to make our way back to the van as Mr. Ice Cream Man cranks up the volume once again and pulls away. I haven't taken 3 steps when the inevitable occurs. I hear a startled," OOOhhhhh. . . . !" behind me.
I look back to find the Prance holding the chocolate drizzled waffle cone, staring between his feet at the vanilla, chocolate drizzled, crushed peanut top of his Drumstick.
"Whoooepz!" he says.
"Oh, no! Legolas, I'm sorry!"
"I wuz jest leekin da dreepy paert oef da sied," he pauses, using his tongue to demonstrate with the now empty cone, "an luuk whut haeppnd!" he finishes, sweeping his other arm toward the ground in a dramatic flare.
A flash of gold runs past me, skreeching to a halt at the Prance's feet. Christie's golden retriever apparently didn't miss it. He is lapping up the mess at Legolas' feet like it is manna from Heaven.
"An noew dat doeg iz eetin my ise kreem!" Legolas whines.
In the distance, I can still hear the sounds of the Ice Cream Man's tinny music. "Hurry, Legolas, if we move quickly we can catch him and get another one."
I holler to Little Pip to get in the van, only to find Legolas has already dropped the rest of his cone to Christie's dog and has taken off running down the middle of the street. Running myself in the opposite direction, I jump into the driver's seat and take off after him. In my mind's eye I can see the green flag waving, indicating the race is on its way.
It is no small miracle he isn't hit by a car on the way, running full out like that down the center line, blonde mane flying behind him, legs pumping, feet barely touching the ground. He beats me to the Ice Cream truck by a full 30 seconds.
"Whut tuuk u soe loeng?" he asks. He's not even breathing hard. I took the van, and I am still panting like a racehorse.
"Nevermind," I tell him. After all, it takes skill and talent to chase madly down the street in a van, dodging children and pets, following blindly behind an elf with a mission and keeping my Drumstick from dripping down my arm at the same time.
"Back so soon?" grins Mr. Ice Cream Man. "Just couldn't get enough of me, could you Honey?" He winks at Legolas. "What can I get for you this time?"
"I gess I weel hav anuthr won of dose," Legolas sighs, pointing to what is left of my Drumstick dejectedly.
"What about a fudge dipped soft cone, Legolas?" asks Little Pip, pointing at the picture on the machine that makes the soft dip ice cream. "That one won't fall off on you."
"MMMmmmmm. . . . dat DUZ luuk guud!" exclaims the Prance. " I weel hav wone of doze, pleeze."
"Chocolate, or vanilla?" asks Mr. Ice Cream Man.
Legolas eyes me, confused. "Dis ez haerd," he says. "Hoew due u noe whut tu peek?"
"Experience, dear. It's a developed habit." I turn to Mr. Ice Cream Man, saying," Make it a chocolate with chocolate fudge dip." Glancing back at Legolas, knowing his own propensity for the Dark Sweet Lord of my earth, I add, "Better put it in a chocolate drizzled waffle cone too."
Mr. Ice Cream Man gives me a knowing smile, perfectly aware that chocolate is the secret to a woman's heart. He leers a little as he leans forward to gaze directly into Legolas' blue eyes. "It really is your first time, isn't it sweetheart?" he asks suggestively.
Legolas blinks, unsure. "Weel, I deed hav dat othur won, bud I droepd it an da doeggie got it," he answers innocently.
With a small chuckle, Mr. Ice Cream Man turns and pulls the handle on the soft serve machine. Legolas watches dumbfounded as the chocolate ice cream begins to fold softly into the waffle cone. As Mr. Ice Cream Man hands Legolas the cone confection, his hand lingers a bit against Legolas' long fingers, and he asks, "You've really never done this before?"
"I hav neber dun enithang like dis befour!" answers Legolas excitedly, so wrapped up in staring at the cone that he totally misses what is inferred.
I give Mr. Ice Cream Man a glare. I would have smacked his hand if he hadn't moved it before I could reach him. He straightens up, and I push between them to hastily pay, just to keep him from touching Legolas again.
Before we can climb back into the van, the chocolate dipped ice cream is gone, waffle cone and all. Legolas sticks each of his long fingers into his mouth, sucking each one clean. As he finishes the pinkie finger on his left hand, he suddenly bends forward in the seat, clutching his head between his hands.
"UUUGGGggghhhhh. . . ." he moans.
Whoa, nothing like having your first Elvish Ice Cream Headache.
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Responses to Reviewers:
TreeHugger: *sounds of grumbling* I sed I doent waent tu! *sound of dragging feet* I sed I em maed at her! *Legolas crosses his arms as al makes him sit down at the computer *She doent lub me enimoer, she sed soe hersef! An I em noet Eendiena Joenz! But Legolas, I do like her idea about letting Araporn just arrest Sauron and throw him in jail. I especially like the idea of her vacuuming my house. Here, talk to Elu instead, ok?
Elu: Com liv hear, Elu! I weel let u plae wid Leedle Peepz ruebbr dueky. An da Baerbeez. Jest doent brang dat womin-steelin maenga maen wid u. *siehz* My hart eez broak een tu.
leail: Dat shoew abot kraeonz IZ guud! I trie to wach Meestr Roegerz eberydae, an Seaseme Streat tu.
Lady Eirte: I leernd hoew miny droepz of wader wuld fiet on a peeny on Zuum!, an Leddle Peep waches Libertee Kiedz ebery dae wid me. I like dem all!
SarWolf Sanpe: *huegz fur u!* PeeBeaEss Rox!
PuterPatty: I due lub Danieal Tiegr, an X duz akt like Mithranduir sumtiemz. U deed a grate joeb seenigin ur soeng, melamin! I lub grean da baest. Ai, Valar, da Loeng Shaenk Show AGIN?! *blueshez* I hoep dat neber gitz on kabel.
Ariliyn: yae! Nuembr Seax! I thank al wached PeeBeaEss alot beafour I kaem aloeng. I LIKE da Taletuebeez. . .
Phoenix Flight: Yaes, I due nead tu wurk oen my spaellin, but al taekz guud kaer of me an I doen't thank I nead enithang aelse. *al swipes keyboard from Legolas* Go get something to drink and come right back, ok baby? *Legolas wanders off* PF, he is quite quick on the uptake-the problem seems to be in getting his interest. He feels he has all the time in the world, and sees no reason to rush things. Sometimes I think the knock on the head may still be affecting him too. He's just a big kid at heart.
Iz it my tuern agin? Okae. . . .
Gershwin: *blueshz* she kaeld me Sweat Cheakz! Oeh, yeaah, I hab sum baddle skarz. Da fuerst tiem I shoed Gameli hoew tu shuut my boe an aroz, he puet dat thang rite in my . . . wile I wuz settin up da taergit! I hoep u feal bedder!
Magical Rachel: Hear iz sum Elvis fur u: Amin autien rath. Dat meenz I em goen tu bed noew. An a tiep fur u-doent eet dose elf kuukeez en ur bed, cuz dose kruemblz weel keap u awaek all nite.
Newmoon: al letz me wach TV fur jest a leedle wile eech dae. We ar vary bizy an goen bie bie in da vaen alot. I lub da Yung and da Raestlass, an Suervievr.
Loopy4_1: I em not warried all da tiem. I hav noet haed anibudy trie tu juemp my boenz hear, but Yeas Deer meekz shure eberybuddy haz dere oewn poark choep or chikn whin we eet so we due not hav tu shaer. Dat wae nobuddy fites at da deener taeble ober da boenz.
Katherine: O.O Noen of da she-elvez eber feall oen me, but dey triyed. Irena oeffrd tu likk my buutz noet tu loeng ago, an da mael elvs sumtiemz sed I leed a faerytell lief.
ithinkineedanewname: I thank I like Beeg Bierd da baest. He iz tael like me, an hez feat ar beeg like mien tu. I like Ealmo tu. al gav me al leedle Ealmo and a leddle Beeg Bierd tu keap oen my bed!
The Two Princesses: al duz taek guud kaer of me. She saeng da Aaerdvard soeng fur da cheldreen'z searmon at chuerch won tiem, in frunt of eberybuddy! I foeund dat al alsoe weel sae yaes tu alot of thangz if u giv her sum chokolit an whine beafour u akz her-Yeas Deer tot me dat. Ar ur feeshz growen yeat? Duz da leddlest pranciss feal bedder?
Eileen: I em glaed u ar bak! U kin leern alot oen SeaSeme Streat. *huegz*
Seaweed: Hae Seaweed! Hae Gameli! I'v neber sean a maelt bear rox, doe al iz taekin me rueby deegin oen Friedae. I lub Ealmo tu!
Stimpy: al sez dat da aerm akshun iz a leedle skeery on dat 6 eench akshun feegur of me. Meestr Roegrz iz noet all dere, sumtiemz he goes tu da Laend of Maek-Beakeeve an sumtiemz tu da kraeon faktury and sumtiemz tu da wader treetmant plaent!
Nancing Elf: I WUZ NOET LOEST! I WUZN'T MEESING ETHR! I wuz rite dere all da tiem. *waevz tu Gwibess Jr.* Hae Gwibess! *bloez keesez tu NE!* I meesd u! OOOOoooo! U maek a guud keetie! Due dat agin! *puerzzzz* OOOOoooo! Due id agin!
Endomiel: Dat Saem I em! Dat Saem I em. I weel tael dat tu da Hoebbitz, if we eber fiend dem agin whin I goe bak.
JastaElf: *THUNK* Oh, sorry! He saw "Honeybun of Love" and now he's out cold on the floor! *al fans Legolas* Get up! *hueh?* Get up!! You're not done yet! *okae* *THUNK* Whoa, there he goes again-happened as he read about being turned into a . . .*al shudders* Nevermind. Get up Legolas! *rubz haed* Hae Jaesta! Hae Ada! U keap da Viktoreea'z Seekrit Kateloeg in da bafruum? Whuteber fur? We keap owrz bie da pone, so al kin oerdur faestr. Thangz I weel noet due liest thang nuembr 3: Due noet bie won of Viktoreea's Seekrit toeps fur al frum unlaess u bie a boettm tu. Da laedee on TV sed dat.
laure: Whut eez a rabbit faengurl? We hav broewn buenniez een our frunt yaerd, an Leedle Peep haz a wite rabbid at skool. Noen of dem chaesz me, doe. . .
Skye Rocket: Thaenkz! I em glaed u lub my lief!
Dunkelelbe aka Anja: Dere u ar! I thot u got loest! But u new whur u wear da hole tiem I bet. al deed not nead tu sweech oef da buebblz, I hav elvis eersz an I culd here her jest fien.
IRENA: DA LAENGWEDGE OF LUB?? U MUEST BEA UZIN DA RONG ELVIS TRAENZLATER. Deed u git urz frum Graecelaend? Empoestrz! Shuld I braeng my ruebbr dueky? An whut deed al sae dat iz noet truew abot u? al sez she lubz ur stueff tu. Soe due I. Legolas, she is talking about her writing and my writing, you know, like the fanfiction, not THAT stuff! Whut stueff? You know, like the angel wings, and the bubbles, and the leather. . . .OOOOooooohhhhh. . O.O
Estina: I muest goe bak Dec 18th. al iz gedding da tiektz oen Friedae. I hav soe muech tu tael u beafour I goe! Thaenkz fur tipin tu me!
blue eyed babe: Hae! Itz guud tu sea u! Glaed u maed it hear! I doent noe if I culd eet graepz 24/7 (dey giv me turrable dierreea), but thaenkz fur da oeffr. *huegz fur u!*
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Hope you all enjoyed the visit to another day in Legolas' life! He loves to hear from you, so be sure to leave him a little note to tell him you stopped by. I promise he will answer you back! Do it quick, I have another chapter almost finished for you, and time is passing quickly!