Popsicle

The young Mrs. Camdyn had promised to take her five-year-old son, Reilly, out for ice cream if he behaved during his doctor's appointment. However, it looked like she wasn’t going to be able to keep this promise. Dr. Nelson, that half blind, fuzzy eared pediatrician, had out of the blue gone on a tirade about the effects of ice cream on a young body.

"Mrs. Camdyn, the state of our society worries me." Dr. Nelson had begun, "All of the terrorists and the Jerry Springer folks just walking around, blending into society. And do you have any idea what causes them to be the way that they are?" He had paused, waiting for an answer, but all Mrs. Camdyn could do was stare at this crazy old man in the white jacket. After a few seconds, he realized he wasn’t going to receive an answer, so he continued. "Ice cream! Those Hood and Häagen-Dazs people put crazy things in the batter. Oh, they think they’re so smart. They use words like monoglycerides and diglycerides when they should really be admitting that its crazy powder."

At this point, Mrs. Camdyn was growing tired of his ranting.

"Dr. Nelson, is my son going to pass his check-up?" She asked in a polite, but firm tone.

"Oh yes, Mrs. Camdyn. He has a clean bill of health…for now. But mark my words, if you feed him ice cream, he’ll grow up to be everything, but a clear minded man like me."

"Thank you, Dr. Nelson, I’ll keep that in mind."

As she walked hand in hand with Reilly to their brown Volvo station wagon, she couldn’t help but laugh out loud at what he had said. Ice cream causes people to turn evil? What a preposterous idea! Yet, somehow by the time they pulled up in front of the Orchard Hill Ice Cream stand the old man had gotten to her.

"Reilly, what if we went to the drugstore and got you a nice Popsicle?" she had said, turning to him.

"Mama, I want an ice cone." He had replied, looking ahead at the brightly colored chalkboard menu and practically drooling.

"I think you’d like a Popsicle better, Sweetie. A nice orange one maybe?"

"Mama, I was a good boy." He said, turning to her, his smile beginning to slowly fade from his lips.

"Oh, I know you were, Sweetie. You were the best little boy in the world."

"Then why can’t I have an ice cream cone?" He said, giving her puppy eyes.

Who can resist giving someone with such sweet puppy eyes whatever they ask for?

"Let’s get you unbuckled and go get some ice cream." Mrs. Camdyn said, pressing the release button on his seatbelt.

What was she thinking letting the views of that man cloud her judgment? Her beautiful brown-haired boy could never be one of those people.

However, when they got to the window to order she heard that old coot’s voice echoing in her head.

"What can I get you?" asked the cheerful teenage girl with the bright red hair.

"Chocolate Oreo in a cup, Mommy!" Reilly declared to his mother.

The teenager smiled down at the boy who was barely tall enough to reach the counter.

"Small, Ma’am?" She asked, reaching up on the shelf for the small paper cup.

"No, thank you." replied Mrs. Camdyn, not looking at the girl, but at her son. "Reilly, let's get you a Popsicle at the store down the street. I’ll get you whatever flavor you like."

"But Mommy I was a good boy!" whined Reilly tears brimming in his eyes.

"That’s enough, Reilly. I’m just trying to look out for your welfare."

"Excuse me, Ma’am, but we have Popsicles too." said the teenager who wanted desperately to make a sale.

"Oh. Well, what kinds do you have?" asked the mother, finally making eye contact with the teen.

"Grape, Cherry, Root Beer, Orange---"

"See, Reilly! They have orange Popsicles. You like orange Popsicles."

"But I want Chocolate Oreo ice cream. I was a good boy, Mommy, and you promised." He said, the tears finally falling down his rosy cheeks.

Mrs. Camdyn looked down at her son.

"I made him cry." She thought to herself. "I promised him ice cream if he was a good boy and now look at what I’m doing to him. That quack doesn't know what he's talking about."

Mrs. Camdyn turned to the girl behind the screen and smiled.

"Could we please have two small Chocolate Oreos in cups?"

"Right away, Ma’am." the girl said grabbing two cups from the shelf and walking over to the bin with the Chocolate Oreo ice cream.

"I’m sorry, baby." Reilly’s mom said, crouching down to pull him into her arms. "Sometimes Mommy is just as bad as that dumb doctor."

"That’s okay, Mommy." Reilly said, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Appalled Mrs. Camdyn said, "Don’t do that, Reilly! The mailman says that’s how you get Cancer!"