It was few minutes to 8 yesterday morning, I guess, that I thought I saw it. Even in my slightly bleary condition (overslept and had to beg a lift in) something like a four-foot high Cornetto wasn't going to escape my attention.
Me: "That was a four-foot high Cornetto outside the garage!"
Polly: "What?"
There's probably a formal medical term for those whose fevered imagination leads them to hallucinate giant ice-creams (or dream of industrial-sized slabs of pâté, but that's another story). Of course, this isn't the kind of thing one can keep to oneself. I had, shall we say "mixed" reactions to the revelation, ranging from the fervent hope that it was an hallucination because it would be cool to see ice-cream that wasn't really there (working too hard, that one) to people edging nervously in the general direction of away.
By the time the end of the day rolled around I'd almost forgotten about it. Until we stopped at the garage for petrol. Even then I didn't spot it again until we were pulling away...
Me: "There! Look! Cone! STOP THE CAR!!"
It's obscurely comforting to know that it was really there. Now if only I had a real one like that...
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