Our freezer's malfunctioning a bit again. It won't stop making ice cubes, even though the bin into which the cubes fall is completely full, so when you open the freezer door, dozens of excess cubes spill out if you're carefully monitoring the inventory. It keeps doing this even though I've actually turned the setting to off. Some things just don't take "no" for an answer.
So I open the door this morning and see that it's now malfunctioning in another, at least more aesthetically pleasing, way. I reach up and snap off the result of the malfunction and hand it to the six-year-old, who happens to be standing right next to me, thinking he might like it.
The Brawn looks at the thing in his hand, puzzled. Then he picks it up and turns it this way and that, delighted by its shape and texture.
"Look!" he yells. "It's like a straight cold candy cane made out of water!"
Yes, buddy, it is. To those of us who didn't grow up in SoCal, we call such bizarre, foreign marvels "icicles."