Week 63: '07 Ford Shelby GT500

Today's sweet ride is a 2007 Ford Shelby GT500, and as previously promised in Week 48, a Ford Shelby post means The Art of Imagination.

We've been straightening around the house in preparation of Thanksgiving, and, after finally making headway in the living room, I returned from the kitchen to find coats and miscellaneous items on the ground as if chucked there by some silent poltergeist. This could only mean one thing...

The ICE CREAM SHOP WAS OPEN!!

I've mentioned the pretend ice cream shop before: it is a brown leather swivel chair in our living room. The original ice cream shop location has moved to the other side of the living room after I changed the furniture arrangement, and, during cleaning, the chair has been used to toss coats and such that we will later put away.

"G, did you toss these coats on the floor?" I asked, rounding the corner.

"WEP! I Did! Want some ice cweam?" (Baby G often says 'wep' instead of 'yup' or 'yes'.)  He apparently had been patiently sitting on the chair, peering from the small opening between the top part and bottom part of the chair back, waiting for a customer.

What is interesting, besides an ice cream shop being open in November, is G was alone. The ice cream shop concept had originally been created by his brother, Racer A, who was now sitting on the couch playing. The reality of the ice cream shop had apparently been handed down to G, with A having retired to become more or less a somewhat silent partner now, only occasionally piping up with words of encouragement or to explain some of the products, such as the green ice cream G suggested was either mint or lime. It was as if a family shop had been handed down to the next generation -- pretend generations happen quickly when you are two.

The ice cream shop - notice its rustic charm.
You order through the gap, but I guess that's
obvious - you've ordered ice cream before.

 I noticed a particular enthusiasm in selling ice cream (the shop had now added milk shakes to its line up) from G now that he was running the shop solo, even more than he had exhibited when running it with his brother. "Want dat on a cone?" he asked.

Racer A, turning five in a week, watched with an "I-taught-him-everything-he-knows-about-the-ice-cream-shop-in-a-chair-business" air about him without any of the competition for attention I might have suspected. Perhaps he was considering opening a chain.

Baby G was doing great, and only stumbled once, when, during his spiel of asking if I wanted my ice cream on a cone, I confused him by pointing out I had ordered a milk shake (this was my second pass through the shop), which couldn't go in a cone but needed to go in a cup. I saw little eyes through the chair slot blink in confusion, then heard a little laugh.

"Oh, okay!" Then I heard him go "BIZZZZXZZZZZZZZ" as he fired up the blender.

I am pretty sure that blender is new.

From the look on Racer A's face, I could tell he knew the shop was in good hands.

From me, my wife, Baby G, Racer A, and Racer Z, we wish everyone an imaginative and wonderful Thanksgiving.

Photo of 2007 Shelby courtesy of Phil Pekarcik.