I Scream, You Scream...

It was hot and muggy, the perfect night for an ice cream expedition.  It was time to get the girls ready for bed.  They didn’t have school in the morning though and suddenly I had a hankerin’ for ice cream.  I knew we didn’t have any in the freezer.  And that kind rarely tastes as good to me anyway!  So I suggested to Tony that we head to Dairy Queen.

While I was getting ready, I began to reminisce.  I thought about those hot summer nights back home when I was a child.  Dad would have just finished mowing.  The sun would have already set but it wouldn’t be completely dark yet.  My sister, Mom and I would be finishing supper dishes.  Dad would come in the house and say those famous words, “Let’s go get some ice cream.”  A thrill would course through my veins.  I don’t know why exactly because I was never much of an ice cream connoisseur.  I’d just a soon have had a candy bar.  But maybe it was something about us all being together.

We would hurriedly finish drying and putting away the last dish while Dad cleaned up.  When the bedroom door squeaked open we would hear his heavy footsteps coming down the hall, the scent of Brut or Old Spice wafting behind him…mmmm.  And we knew it was time to head to the car for our 10 minute drive to Mt. Pleasant.

The ice cream shop at our end of town was Baskin Robbins.  Every time we went we perused all 31 flavors offered in the freezer.  I’m not sure why we did this because every time without fail we ordered the same exact thing:  chocolate with a sugar cone for me; chocolate marshmallow with a sugar cone for Mom; and butter pecan on a regular cone for Dad.  I don’t remember what my sister ordered.  Maybe she was the adventurous one who tried a new flavor each time.  Who knows?  MY focus was on getting the ice cream above the cone eaten in just the right amount of time-not too fast, not too slow-so I could get to the best part, the slightly soggy cone!

We would sit in the air-conditioned shop until our cones were mostly gone.  Our Baskin Robbins must have purchased their seating from a school auction.  They had hard plastic chairs that lined the perimeter of the store with a writing desk attached to each chair.  I could never figure that out.  When we were down to the napkin-wrapped cone, we would head for the car and finish the last few bites of our bedtime snack on the way home.  The moon and stars would be in full shimmer by this time and our sweet tooth temporarily satisfied.

Now days, those trips are few and far between.  It’s difficult to find an ice cream shop around here that specializes in hand dipped ice cream.  But even if I can’t have Baskin Robbins 2nd flavor, (I’m pretty sure their 1st flavor was vanilla) on occasion I long for a trip down memory lane.  I’ll settle for Dairy Queen.  I have actually become partial to a vanilla soft-serve dipped in chocolate.  After all, if I eat it in just the right amount of time-not too fast, not too slow-I end up with the same deliciously, slightly soggy cone!