Ice Cream

I'm not much of an ice cream afficionado. To be perfectly honest, it's not ever something I crave or go out of my way to get. But yesterday, after wandering around Philadelphia in 90-degree weather with two daughters of visiting friends of mine, ice cream seemed just the thing.

We went to Philadelphia's Please Touch Museum, which was a great success with them both. Although I have to say, we were lucky they didn't have any school groups there, because it was hard for me to keep track of them both just with the 40 or so kids that were running around. We ate pizza at a local pizza joint, where Amelia (the blonde in the picture) insisted that she would only eat cheese pizza, and then when she got the pizza proceeded to scrape the cheese off and eat only the crust and sauce. After lunch, we spent a little time in the playground outside the museum, but it got way too hot to really play for any extended period of time.

We then decided to get a little history and took a tour of the Betsy Ross House. They weren't as much interested in the history of the place (everything behind glass windows, nothing you can actually touch) as the were in the living history characters wandering around. Ah, it took me back to my Beechwood days. We watched a sword-fighting demonstration and a rifle-shooting demonstration. Chloe (the brunette) got a crush on one of the colonials and had to have her picture taken with him. And Amelia was fascinated by a knot-making demonstration by a sailor.

We got our ice cream at the Franklin Fountain, a 1900's style soda fountain that had really good ice cream. As I said, I'm no afficionado, but to this novice tongue, the ice cream went down smooth and sweet. The girls, of course, were in heaven, and Chloe got most of her ice cream on her face rather than in her mouth, but that's what napkins are for, right?