a whippy kind of weekend
I’ve always found Mr Whippy creepy. The fact that they stalk through neighbourhoods, sculk around playgrounds and sift along the beachside playing that unnerving little jingle really irks me.
“Follow me children, I have delicious frosty confection inside my truck.”
There is something sordid and pied piperish about the whole things.
Maybe I’m just a twisted cynical woman. Don’t get me started on Christmas mall Santas.
Anyway, Mr Whippy (or the Whipster as I like to call him) does amuse me, as we seem to have a dedicated posse of them that peruse our neighbourhood daily. What makes it excellent entertainment is that Boosty starts howling when that little jingle starts up. You get that Whipster, Boosty. I used to love that cone that was dipped in the psychedelic pink sherbert stuff. mmm sugary sherberty chemicals; my poor parents.
On to the tasks of the day…..
- Misty food making
- Milk making and seed sprouting
- Now, to keep this one OUT of the pantry (fail, and fail once more)