Ice Cream Sutra

I only start listening when the two kids (siblings, to look at them, the instigator maybe nine, his minion maybe seven or so) start chanting, "Meditating, meditating, meditating, meditating...."

"Okay, that's kind of annoying," says the adult with them in an Australian accent (tattoos, a guitar in a soft case, grizzled and tanned, young enough to maybe qualify as "hot dad," with the whole salt and pepper hair thing happening).  "Let's pretend we really want ice cream!"

"Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream...," they begin to chant, the monotony undercut a bit by the giggles they keep having to suppress.