Walking up the street today on the way home, M and I were passed by the ice-cream truck, which then stopped a hundred metres up the street by the park.
M: The ice-cream truck comes every day in summer!
M: But not in winter.
M: (thoughtfully) When do you suppose is the last day of summer? For ice-cream trucks?
Me: Dunno. Soon, though.
Me: We’d better get some ice cream just in case it’s our last chance this year, eh?
M: Good idea.
We’ll call it cheap insurance against Seasonal Affective Disorder.