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(Image credit: Kaitlin Flannery)

The ice cream truck may have shunned the streets of the deep-woods neighborhood I grew up in, but my parents made sure that my brother and I didn’t miss out on the joy of a Popsicle on a hot summer day. They kept a second freezer in the basement, and though I’m sure it was used for important things like storing meat, vegetables, and the odd set of important documents, it was reliably stocked with what seemed to be a never-ending supply of Flav-Or-Ice Pops. The large blue box sat plainly within our reach on the bottom shelf, so my brother and I helped ourselves whenever a craving struck.

Twenty years later, the sweet relief I seek on a hot summer day has turned more liquid in nature. Although I’ll never quite get over the nostalgia of a simple, brightly colored ice pop, time changes things. In this case, it’s for the better. After all, what higher honor could a childhood favorite achieve other than growing up itself?

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