The day was bright and sunny, but Sam found himself sitting on a bench near a bright window, his feet propped up on the table and a heavy book of herbs in his lap. Little Elanor and even littler Frodo were at his feet, rolling a tin can make and forth, giggling in their childish way. His dear Rosie was visiting her mother about something. She wouldn't tell him what, just that it was a 'woman's thing', so he said he'd watch the two. He had just gotten to 'Foxglove' when a soft little whine erupted his reading.
"Daddy," Elanor called. "We are bored."
These words are the most terrifying words a caring father could hear. Sighing, he picked up his daughter and son and place them both in the crook of his arms.
"What would you like to do, you two?" He asked them.
"Something fun!" Elanor laughed.
"Fun!" Frodo repeated his sisters last words.
Sam wondered to himself, 'when I was younger, what did my folks do with me to have fun?' Whenever he was bored, his Gaffer would send him out to the garden and make him identify each herb and flower. Or he would make him clean every room in their hole till there was not a spot of dust. Or he would make him peel potatoes, cut carrots, and clean rabbits for supper. Or...well, with a year he learned not to tell his Gaffer that he was bored. But his mother...
"How would you like to make ice cream?" Sam asked.
"Ice cream?" Elanor asked, perking her head up.
"Icy?" Frodo tried to repeat.
"Yes, ice cream,"Sam replied, "My mum used to make ice cream with me when I was a little lad. It would take up some time and at the end we had a delicious desert."
Elanor looked over at her brother and scratched her head, contemplating how in Middle Earth they could make ice cream. Whenever they had the sweet treat on a burning summer day, their mama would make it. Neither children had figured how their mama accomplished great feats like that.
"Alright, Papa,"Elanor giggled.
They soon found themselves in the kitchen, a cup of cream and milk, ½ cup sugar, and some strawberries in front of them. Sam was holding little Frodo, who couldn't reach the counter yet, against his hip and Elanor was right by his side standing a chair.
"Want to mix the ingredients, dear?" Sam asked his daughter.
She nodded, and with her chubby little hands, she poured the cups of milk and sugar and cream into the cleaned out tin can. She took a large wooden spoon and began to mix it together. As she began to giggle, Frodo let out a little cry.
"What's wrong, my boy?" Sam whispered.
"My turn," He cried.
Sam thought for a moment, knowing Frodo was not old enough to stir the thick mixture. But they still had the strawberries. He gave Frodo a strawberry and leaned over so he could throw it in. Instead, he started to nibble it.
"Well..."Sam laughed, "Whatever works for you."
When the mixture was finished, he fished through the cupboards for a bigger can. When found, he put the salt and the ice in it for them, and then sealed the little can into the bigger can. Taking his children outside, he put the can on the ground. Elanor and Frodo looked up at him.
"Kick it," Sam motioned.
Elanor and Frodo cocked their head at him.
"Let me show you," Sam said, and gave the can a little kick.
"We heard you, Papa," Elanor laughed, "But how will kicking give us ice cream?"
"Well..."Sam thought, "I'm not sure, but I promise you, if you kick that can around for a while, we will have ice cream."
Sam watched as Elanor gazed over at the tin can on the ground. She gave it a little kick, and then looked back up at her father. But little Frodo didn't want to wait any longer. He kicked it clear down the walk way, having to have Sam run down to get it. Finally Elanor and Frodo got used to kicking it in front of the house. They even got their papa to join in. After a while, Sam took the cover off, looked inside, and then smiled.
"I believe it's ready," He told the two.
Soon enough, they each were sitting in the kitchen, a big bowl of ice cream in front of them. Soon, the summer afternoon melted away as Sam and his two beautiful children took a little nap.