When Saturday Hands You A Snow Cone

When Saturday hands you a pink lemonade and grape snow cone with a red “Dubble Bubble” gum ball perched solidly on top… What’s a girl to do? Well you do what any self-respecting girl would do and take two white plastic spoons and four paper napkins (or 16) from the condiment shelf on the snow…

When Saturday hands you a pink lemonade

and grape snow cone

with a red “Dubble Bubble” gum ball

perched solidly on top…

What’s a girl to do?

Well you do what any self-respecting girl would do

and

take two white plastic spoons

and four paper napkins (or 16)

from the condiment shelf on the snow cone truck.

Take one spoon for yourself

and

one spoon to share with your husband

and indulge in the frosty sugary goodness.

It is very important though

to totally keep your mind focused on the frosty goodness

part of the indulgence

and absolutely ignore all the chemical toxicity

of the sugary syrupy sweetness

part of the indulgence.

Because if you let your mind go there…

to all the information out THERE…

well…you know…

EVERYTHING is poison.

AND

oh blissful day…

when

Saturday handed me a snow cone I accepted.

Yes sireeeeeee I did.

I felt like the luckiest girl alive

almost!

When I was a wee little toddler,

not so very long ago,

I remember standing

on the hot hot hot hotter than hot

sidewalk that stretched like warm rubbery taffy

along Main Steet of Eldorado Oklahoma, my parents’ hometown.

Standing proudly on the edge of the sidewalk,

was a little snowy-white booth, with a sliding glass window.

As the attendant slid the window open to take an order

or hand out a newly shaved mound of ice,

cold air rushed out to greet

sun freckled cheeks.

There you could purchase a snow cone served in a white paper cone.

“Would you like grape OR cherry?”

“One or the other?”

Who could decide that?

We stood around the outskirts of the stand area on the hot sidewalk

as sugary syrup oozed from the tip of the cone and dripped off our elbows.

The blazing Southwest Oklahoma summer sun

melted the ice to a hard knot in the paper holder that bobbled

up and down

up and down

as we tried to get our mouths open enough

for our teeth to latch into the snow ball.

It was delectable!!

I tell you, delectable!!

I will drive for a snow cone.

I will walk for a snow cone.

And I will wait in line for a snow cone.

 

This past Saturday while Tiffany was participating

in activities pertaining to

Drum Corp International,

at Lucas Oil Stadium, downtown Indy,

we had a little bit of time between her performances.

The food trucks started lining up along Georgia Street

about 10 in the morning.

It didn’t take long to spy the snow cone truck.

We walked

and listened to performances

and drove to take care of responsibilities

and walked

and checked in on performers

and walked

and enjoyed the sites

and walked

and around 2:30 in the afternoon,

Saturday just stepped right up

and handed me a snow cone.

I was so proud of it I held it high to the sky

and as its beauty glistened in the sunlight,

I took this photo just for you.

Because you know

every self-respecting girl should ABSOLUTELY accept

when

Saturday hands her a snow cone!

 

And in the full disclosure of total honesty,

I had a snow cone the Saturday before also…

well because…

you KNOW

when Saturday hands you a snow cone…

 

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