Chapter 1

My son set his eyes on the Chicecream in the freezer: “Mommy, I want to eat this.”

I took a look.

Good grief, isn’t this the “ice cream assassin”?

The price tag read “68”.

This little rascal caught me off guard and stabbed my beautiful eyes right in the heart.

I grabbed a bottle of room-temperature mineral water and handed it to my son: “Then you can just keep on thinking about it.”

My son pouted, then scampered off toward school in a huff.

Just before he disappeared from sight, he turned back and made a face at me.

I calmly walked back to the small shop and handed the owner the money: “Two Chicecreams.”

The owner gave me a thumbs up:

“You can’t spoil the kids, but you shouldn’t suffer yourself either.”

I nodded in approval:

“Raise sons and daughters frugally, but pamper yourself to stay healthy.”

Then, under my son’s distant, desperate gaze,

I started enjoying them slowly—Velvet Cocoa in my left hand, Sea Salt Coconut in my right.

It was hot out, and the ice cream was starting to melt.

Sticky drops of milk dripped onto the back of my hand, and I crouched by the roadside, tilting my head to lick it off.

The window of the Cayenne parked in front of me slowly rolled down.