I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream

“I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.” Remember hearing those words? Believe it or not, they come from a song written wa-a-ay back in 1925! I wasn’t around in 1925, but the song’s funny melody, its strange language, and its unusual tone quality has stayed the course and caused it to become a classic. Why? Because it states an undisputable honest to goodness true fact about people: We all start screaming for ice cream when the weather turns warm.

And it has finally turned warm even in South Dakota. To celebrate this wonderful warm weather, hubby and I have been stopping at our favorite ice cream place every time we go to town. Our bodies just seem to be screaming for ice cream, and so try as we might, our vehicles can’t pass up the ice cream store, and they miraculously turn in all on their own power.

So, since we have needed numerous parts on numerous occasions, we have enjoyed numerous ice cream cones lately. Yum! In fact, I just finished consuming a most delicious cone full of old-fashioned cherry nut ice cream, and hubby had a dishful of strawberry ice cream. What a treat on a warm summer day! And this delicious treat brings back a fond memory…

Big sisters can be poops

As a kid, my family stopped at the DQ every Saturday afternoon. Mom always went shopping on Saturdays, we kids went to the movies, and then if we were really good kids—we got to stop for a 5 cent vanilla cone. Oh, what a treat for each of us except one time. My big sister Lou Ann proved to be a real poop!

Yes, I said she was a poop! Even today, I’m still mad about what she did to me. I was a mere little girl of about six years of age at the time, and she was a big snotty sister of fourteen! Humpf! She ought to have known better than to pull this prank on me.

Cones with a curl on the top

Anyway, you see, we had this contest with our ice cream cones, and I almost won the game one time. If she hadn’t cheated, I would have been the big winner. The game was who ever could save their curl on the top of their ice cream cone the longest without eating it—won the game.

Well, one Saturday afternoon, I vowed to win the game. So, patiently and very carefully I licked around underneath the curl on the top of the cone until there was hardly any ice cream left holding up the curl. Only a miniscule sliver remained, but the curl was still intact. Yes!

With that curl part cinched, I surveyed everyone else’s cones. Sisters Lois and Wanda had finished their cones off in a quick hurry and Lou Ann was already done with the ice cream part and was crunching away on her cone. So-o-o, I proudly proclaimed that I was the winner and ate my curl.

Sneaky, sneaky sisters

Sister Lou Ann laughed right out loud and then held up her left hand for everyone to see. There, perched as perfectly intact as could be was the curl from her ice cream cone. She explained that she had swished the curl off of her cone and hid it from everyone. What a brat! She said she was the winner, but I told her she had cheated. And to this day, I still say she cheated! Don’t you agree?

Vengeance is mine

I haven’t thought about that ice cream curl incident for a long time. Hm? I never did get even with Sister Lou Ann, but you know what? Since it’s her birthday this summer, I’m going to sing the ice cream song and take her out for an ice cream cone to celebrate the day.

I know already that she’ll only order a small cone because she worries about her waistline. But I’m not going to order a small cone; not by a durn sight! Instead, I’m going to order the largest ice cream cone that I can buy and eat it with relish.

Without a doubt, my curl will most certainly last longer than hers. Vengeance will finally be mine. Of course, I’m going to have to keep a close eye on her left hand.

Jane Green and her husband, Jim, live near Clark. Contact Jane for some public speaking, to order one of her books, or to register your comments. E-mail her at: jgreen@itctel.com.