? The old popsicles of that era were cold and sweet, small and clever, and you could buy two for a dime. Every time I watch a vendor carefully open a white wooden box, I will carefully open a small old quilt and take out two quilts and hand them to me. Suddenly, I was filled with joy. I took a small stick and tore open a wet white paper with a red or green pattern printed on it. Cold and sweet, refreshing.
I remember once, I followed my mother to the market. As soon as I arrived at the village entrance, I saw the white wooden box. As usual, I couldn't walk, so my mother bought me two. I held one in my right hand and left hand, thinking that my sister was at home. I said, Mom, I'll send one to my sister. Say that finish, I hurried back. I'm worried about melting in the hot sun, but I'm holding a stick and I'm worried about throwing the popsicle to the ground. I had a brainwave. I had a "brilliant idea": I took one in each hand and ran home like a fly. As soon as you enter the door, shout, sister, I brought you an popsicle. My sister was washing clothes in the yard, and she smiled at me. I handed the popsicle excitedly. The middle part is very thin, like a plump woman, but it gives birth to a very thin waist. My sister wiped her sweat and smiled, and took a bite of the old popsicle, which was cold and sweet.
? At that time, our wheat field had moved to the side of the road, so it was very convenient to buy popsicles. My mother gives me a dime from time to time. I picked up a dime and sat patiently in the shade of the roadside. Seeing a bicycle with a wooden box in the back seat, I rushed to buy it. In those summers, buying two old popsicles became the happiest thing every day.
? Of course, there are times when plans fail. Once, the poisonous sun scorched the earth and I was sweating. I sat on the side of the road waiting for the white wooden box to pass by. It must have been extremely hot that day. I waited for a long time, but it got hotter and hotter. My sister also advised me not to wait any longer, but I don't want to wait. In the long-awaited, the sun moved quietly, and the shade of the roadside also moved to the slope of the roadside. I don't believe it. I want to cry. He stopped, opened the box, let me have a look, and told me that it was too hot today and all the popsicles were sold out. I had to go back in a rage.
? Later, there were more and more kinds of white wooden boxes, not only popsicles, but also ice cream with blue patterns. Wrapped in paper, it has become a generous piece, which is expensive and costs 20 cents each. Once I went out with my father and wanted to eat popsicles. He said, buy an ice cream this time. I peeled off the ice cream and smiled at my father. He hesitated for a moment and said, bring it here and let me have a taste. I watched him take it and gently took a bite, the size of a peanut, without saying anything. I got my ice cream back and I can't wait to eat it. It was soft and sweet, like cream, so I took a bite and it was delicious.
? Gradually, that kind of white old popsicle is rare, plus white wooden cases, it is also rare to replace it with a low freezer, push open the glass door of the freezer, red and green ice cubes, all kinds of ice cream, colorful, colorful. I often don't know which to buy.
? A few days ago, I took my son to eat a "luxury" ice cream with a cup of tens of dollars. Looking at my happy son, my thoughts drifted back to 30 years ago, back to the era of two old popsicles with a dime. I vaguely remember that those old popsicles were neatly arranged in boxes, unpretentious, but also extraordinarily sweet.