I is for Ice Cream

“Why do you always choose the cup over the cone?” He hands me my ice cream as we head out to the parking lot. Across the street is the park where there’s some shade to enjoy our treat.

person holding two ice creams
Photo by Bekir Donmez on Pexels.com

“I just like it better. I don’t like the bottom of the cone where there’s no ice cream.”

We cross at the green light and head for the bench under the tree. He is madly licking his cone to keep it from dripping.

“Besides, I don’t have to babysit mine while we walk.”

He sticks his tongue out at me. It’s covered in chocolate ice cream and there’s a drop on his lip. I reach up and clean it with my finger, putting it in my mouth after. “Mmm. It’s good.”

Watching me suck the ice cream off my finger, he stumbles on the uneven path. The ice cream slides forward and right out of the cone, splatting on the sidewalk. He stands there in absolute disbelief.

“Also, mine has a much lower center of gravity,” I say as I start to laugh. He starts to respond and then shrugs his shoulders and laughs.

“It was worth it for that view,” he says. “I guess I could go back for another.”

“Nah. You can share mine,” I say as we reach the bench.

(221 words)

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