Letter to the ice cream man

Dear Ice cream man (or woman),

I would love it if you would slow down in my neighborhood. Today, once again, I heard you coming down my street. You see, I was really excited because I had just finished my delicious turkey sandwich. I heard your song, and at that moment I knew that a chocolate something was just what I needed to top off my meal. I immediately got up and ran to our cute little change box on the hutch and grabbed plenty of quarters. I darted outside... only to find that you were gone. The music had stopped. You were nowhere in sight.

But that didn't stop me.

I grabbed my scooter, put my quarters in my pocket and began my search. I thought that you must be stopped somewhere close by, giving some cute little kids their own serving of delicious ice cream. But no. I went around the entire block looking for you. I burned off an entire ice cream in calories, sir. I am wondering why - during this tough economic crisis - you chose to blaze through my neighborhood. I guess I will never know.

Until next time.

Coffee smiles

Whenever I feel lonely or bummed out, I go to Starbucks. I can't help but laugh to myself when I go there in the mornings. What other place would I find so many different uniforms? In line the other day, there was someone in scrubs, someone in a suit, and someone in boots and a cowboy hat. What a sense of community.

The employees tie it all together. I can always count on them to tell me "hi" when I walk in the door, and smile as I order a complicated drink. Every time they accidentally put whipped cream on the top of my white mocha frappuccino, they make me a new one, no questions asked. I don't even care that they're paid to do it. They have to be nice to me no matter what. I love that. I wish church was like Starbucks. HA.

Material girl

"Look at this stuff. Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?" Ariel the mermaid was just beginning her collection of interesting things. For some people, "things" can go a little overboard.

My mom recently got me hooked on a show called "Clean House." The Clean House team goes to insanely cluttered homes like this one to make the owners sell some of their most prized possessions. The proceeds are matched (up to a thousand dollars) and the money goes to make the house clean and beautiful. In the last few episodes, I watched as people hugged their Harley Davidson T-shirt collection, their giant cigarette-shaped lamp, their presents from last Christmas and their late Uncle Bob's broken jukebox. Even when the outcome of selling their "foolishness" benefits their future living space, home-owners are almost always reluctant to part with their precious things.

Things. Sayings and Bible verses seem to flood into my head. "You can't take it with you." "Old things pass away." Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." I keep wondering what I would really do if the Clean House team came to my home. Would they be prying my precious things from my hands--begging me to sell so that I'd have a great space to live in by the end of the show? If Ariel's statue of Prince Eric was not destroyed, would she have gone after the real thing?

Tune in next Wednesday at 10/9c on the Style channel to see another transformation.