i scream for ice cream.

21 Jul

it is jaw dropping hot in chicago right now.

every moment i’ve been outside, be it 6am or 6pm has been absolutely scorching. a summer heat wave is upon us, and there’s nothing i’d love more right now than a cold treat a la cone to get me through heat stroke ’11 (as a friend cleverly referred).

ice cream makes me think of childhood, of summers spent playing outdoors with my my neighborhood friends, of trips to the pool club, of jumping through sprinklers, and most of all, of visits to the local creamery with my parents.

i always tell the same story when it comes to ice cream and childhood.

i must have been about 6, putting my sister around age 3. my father would pack us into the family van (brown beauty) for a very special trip to Hand-D-Dip Dairy Barn. my sister and i kicked our legs anxiously in the backseat, we’d inherited our father’s patience.

my mother stood next to the driver’s side window, instructing my father “now marty, whatever you do, don’t let julie get a sprinkles cone.” now this wasn’t a new request; my mother, being the wisest one of the bunch, knew what sprinkles and a dripping cone meant for a toddler in a car seat.

my father convinced her that he understood that all hell would break loose if we brought home little julie and a mini van covered in sticky sprinkles and ice cream. being the saint that she is, my mother believed him.

as we pulled out of the driveway my dad enthusiastically asked us “what are we getting?!”. little julie yelped with glee “SPRINKLE CONE! SPRINKLE CONE! SPRINKLE CONE!”. my father spent the entire car ride attmpeting to persuade julie to try something different–“what about a milkshake, or a sundae?”. “SPRINKLE CONE! SPRINKLE CONE!” from the backseat. at this point, she’d got me sold for one too!

at Hand-D-Dip, we approached the counter, and with the proudest smile my dad ordered us both the biggest most messy spinkle cones known to man.

of course we got it everywhere.

of course baby julie was a head-to-toe vision of vanilla multicolor candy mess.

so, 19 years late:  thank you to my mother for cleaning up our sticky messes, and to my father for never saying no to sprinkle cones, because those summer time trips to get ice cream are wonderful memories. ones that i always look back to on warm summer evenings, wishing i could hop back into the 1993 Aerostar van for a trip down memory lane to the Hand-D-Dip.


4 Responses to “i scream for ice cream.”

  1. Toni Sheposh Sheffield July 21, 2011 at 11:28 am #

    LOVE this! We made more than our fair share of trips to good old Handi Dip back in the day, and I cleaned up more than one “fallen sprinkle” from the car. Your mom, as you well know, is a treasure! I know she’ll love this!
    Thanks for bringing back a fun memory for me….those were very happy days, indeed.
    Love ya!
    Mrs. S

  2. Janet Mulloy July 21, 2011 at 3:32 pm #

    I love my sprinkle cone memories as well-maybe not as fondly as you, but fondly lol!

    Mom

  3. Janet Mulloy July 21, 2011 at 4:10 pm #

    another van/sprinkle memory if when Dad and I took you, Julie and the N’s to handi-dip. You all got sprinkles or chocolate dip-you can just imagine the rest lol. =)

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. dreamy nostalgia. « leaner by the lake - October 23, 2011

    […] print reminds me of childhood trips to the local creamery for superman ice-cream. with sprinkles, of […]

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