A boy sits andlistens,
and hears the rumble of an engine
as his parents drive out
of the black diveway.
The boy steals into the kitchen,
with a grimace of delight
and silently opens the freezer door.
He snags the frosty jug of ice cream
and rips the icy lid off,
to reveal a collage of sweet goodness.
No need for spoons,
fingers are easier,
but,
as the first bite soars toward his mouth
he switches his gaze to the doorway
and sees an angry sister
pouting, with the infamous “I’m telling Mom” look.