By now it was already an old tradition to get a pack of home-made Popsicle from the small community of neighbors and friends of my adoptive father. Every summer time the old men would gather and make popsicles for me.
They truly loved me. I have such fond memories of growing up in the feeling of community they created. Mayhaps that is why I never really missed Korea. Some of the men of course put more effort in making me feel at home than others, teaching me of their country’s traditions when I was young or even engaging in mine. I still remember when, on my 21’st birthday they threw a very lovely Korean themed party for me.
And while I never fully escaped the teasing and poking of being called their pretty ‘almond blossom’ or, in the years of puberty ‘sour kimchi girl’, at the end of the day I can consider myself grateful to have found such a warm and welcoming extended family.
Therefore, I’ve never really questioned the flavors of the Popsicles, let alone could explain why some of them started to become more and more intense every year and the biggest mistery of all was why I never got to help them make popsicles! I always imagined it to be a lot of fun and while they were clearly having a good time, I got to relax in the sunlight, grilling my pale skin to not look like too much of a vampire.
But eventually they would come and find me with bright smiles only to charm me by telling my daddy what a pretty woman I have become and before I knew it I was already bowing in gratitude, taking a box of popsicles into both of my hands, promising that I’ll enjoy every slurp of them!
After all, they were very special, clearly made with passion and only 15 of them were available. According to them, two of each of them was made by one of them and 3 were a collaboration. Which never really made much sense to me. I remember in my younger years that one of the men had a labrador whose name I can’t remember and they always insisted that even he contributed and now, since a few years it apparently it is my dad’s Pitbull who has taken the labrador’s spot. – Sure, the taste is a bit different but they can’t fool me by claiming that dogs would be able to make so similarly tasting, yummy popsicles, or would they?
In any case, it was always a cute gesture to have my head patted by any of them whenever they saw me slurp on their refreshing creations. They ranged from Banana-blend like colors, to more milky, cream like colors all the way to an almost watery shade for one of my dad’s Pitbulls’ flavours.
They must clearly just have frozen water in his name or let him drool into it, or something silly like that! At least, that’s what I’m telling them whenever they ask me how Jashik’s popsicle tasted.
I suppose it was a cute gesture to write the name of the creator on the grip of each of the popsicles, that way I could not only identify my favorites but also allow them to feel proud whenever I saved their popsicle for the next occasion when we went on picnics or whenever I decided to sunbath myself. I guess even in western culture there isn’t a bigger compliment for a cook than to see someone deliciously slurp away on their creation, is there?~
Sadly, up to this day they won’t spill their secret recipes and I haven’t ever tasted anything quite like it but sometimes it is the little things that make one feel welcome and special in a once scary and new group of people.~
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/hlcx3n/the_communities_donation_of_a_nutritious_summer
Hottt!!!