Explaining Dippin’ Dots…

I was swimming in, what seemed to be, the Amazon River. The water was deep and an eerie dark green. Below me swam a school of gar. I became a little frantic, wondering if they were going to bite me. Paying more attention to the gar below me, and not to my surroundings, I didn’t notice a little boy who swam up to me. His “hi” startled me.

I looked up and saw a dark skinned boy (probably about 8-years-old), with jet black hair, and nothing but some sort of a loin cloth on, swimming beside me, smiling widely. I said hi back and smiled. The boy tried to speak to me in a language I didn’t understand. I tried to speak to him in English, but he also did not understand. I got the impression he could speak and understand a few words in English, but I didn’t even know what language he was speaking, much speak or understand it. We continued swimming down the river, occasionally looking at one another to smile.

After about ten minutes of silent swimming, the boy broke the silence and asked, “What are Dippin’ Dots?” I was shocked at his sudden English sentence, and even more so that he had somehow heard of Dippin’ Dots. I chuckled and asked him how he knew what Dippin’ Dots are. He shrugged and said he didn’t, with a “that’s why I’m asking you, dummy” look on his face. I told him, “It’s a type of ice cream, in tiny little pellets.”

He looked confused. I asked, “Do you know what ice cream is?” He said no. I thought for a moment. I asked, “Do you know what ice is?” He said no. I was perplexed at how I could explain Dippin’ Dots without the reference of ice cream or even ice. I asked him if he knew what cold was and he nodded yes and said, “Like the rain!” I knew that the rain in the Amazon was far from as cold as ice or snow or Dippin’ Dots, but realized that rain was the closest reference he had to cold, so I agreed.

“Yes, like the rain. Imagine each raindrop painted a different color and tasting like your favorite flavor.” He smiled. At that point I wasn’t sure if he was ready for the conversation to be over, or if he really understood me. We swam on. Eventually we came to a point where we got out on the river bank and spotted an old abandoned house. We curiously walked up to it and opened the front door.

The door creaked open. At our feet, right in front of the entry way, a stuffed lion’s head, that had apparently been hanging on the wall, was laying upside down on the ground. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The lion was struggling to breathe, and began growling at us. The little boy poked it with his foot and the lion lethargically snapped at him, almost biting his toe. I told him I don’t think we should mess with it. He, of course, didn’t understand me, and continued nudging the lion head with his big toe. Eventually the lion bit his foot, and did not let go. I’m not sure what happened from then on, but I know when I got back home, I got on the internet and ordered Dippin’ Dots online and mailed them to the boy. I’m sure they were more like a drink by the time they got to him.

This, of course, was a dream.


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