The Ice Cream Scoop
Mom came to school to get me. I was happy I didn’t have to ride the stinky bus home. Besides, my friends rode a different one.
Mom put my books and the test I got a hundred on in the backpack dangling from the hand grips of my chair and asked if I was ready to go.
Was I ever! We always stopped for ice cream when she picked me up.
As she pushed me down the street, I saw a boy looking out his window. I asked if we could take him some ice cream. She said, “Not today.”
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