Ice Cream, I Scream

This evening my sister-in-law hollered in the window. We do that around here sometimes, it's more effective than knocking. I just love summer. Anyway...she wanted to know if I would like to ride with them over to Ohio for ice cream, as since it was a new week, they would have a new flavor of the week. It's a game with she and my brother as to what flavor it might be, so on the way, we all were trying to guess. We were all wrong and the flavor of the week was black cherry. I think I saw both my brother and his wife drool while they ordered large cones. I ordered a black cherry twist as I wasn't so committed to the flavor and if I didn't like it, the vanilla would balance things out. The girl at the window handed both of their large cones out, and then came my twist. They were enjoying their cones already and as soon as the girl handed me mine, it flopped over on to my shirt, and the rest in my hand as I tried to catch the ice cream falling over. Apparently, the vanilla was softer and since it was a "twist" made the cone unstable. At least that's what the girl at the window implied. It was MY fault for ordering a twist cone instead of the full flavor.

Now, years ago, when something like that would happen, they would take the cone away, say how awful that was to happen, and give you a new cone. Today, the girl was nice enough to give me a cup to dump what was left of my ice cream and cone, only after I would not leave the window, and offer a wet rag so I could wipe off my shirt and hands. I wanted to tell her if I wanted a cup of ice cream, I would have ordered a cup and not a cone, but I didn't. I wonder what it would have taken for her to give me a new cone. Maybe I should have broken out hysterically crying like a little kid.

Times have changed. I don't think I like it either