A Popsicle Saves a Friendship

Back in the early 1950’s we were growing up in simpler times. WWII was just a vague memory for kids our age. Another war had already started in a place called Korea. Boys my age loved to play army!  We scoured the local army surplus store buying canteens, helmets, and patches to sew on our army outfit. Our toy rifles and pistols looked just like the “real” ones that John Wayne used in the Saturday afternoon movies. My pals and I admired our WWII Hollywood heroes and wondered if there would come a day when we would be in a war. We hadn’t even heard of Vietnam. Until then, we dug foxholes and bunkers in our back yards and fought pretend battles.  In our young minds, it all seemed quite realistic. At that age you had many friends, but there was usually one “best friend” you hung out with the most.  Back then, my best friend’s name was David.  We played army, rode our bikes and played catch.  We camped out on each other’s front porches in the summertime and on hot days we ate watermelon to cool off. One day while playing war games in David’s back yard, I mentioned how great it would be if we had a set of walkie-talkies.  We could use them in our battles to outsmart the enemy.  David beamed as he told me how his dad was a WWII soldier and had brought a pair of walkie-talkies home after the war. David proudly announced that he was sure his dad wouldn’t mind if we used them.  He wasn’t certain where they were, but was confident we would find them.  For the next two days we tore through boxes in their basement, attic and garage looking for the walkie-talkies.  I was excited just thinking that the next box or trunk we opened would contain our new equipment! On the third day, my “best friend” sheepishly confessed he had made up the whole thing. There were no walkie-talkies and never had been! Furious, I gathered up my army gear, got on my bike and headed for home; swearing I would never darken his door again.  I told my mom all about it and declared that David and I were no longer best friends. The two moms must have talked and hatched a plan because the next day he showed up with ten cents and offered to go to the corner store and split a Popsicle.  That Popsicle tasted so good!  Soon we forgot about our squabble and by the time we took our last bite, we were “best friends” again.

 

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