(For a writing prompt from The Daily Post.)
Ice cream cones and open car windows in the summertime do not mix. Some might think this is common sense, but I know this from experience.
It was the summer of 1997, the day after graduation, I loaded up my stuff and my best friend, and had an adventure. We drove across the country to my new home outside of Columbus. My family had moved cross country, from Arizona to Ohio. And the plan was to stay with my parents the first year of college, in exchange for them allowing me to stay behind and graduate at my high school instead of starting all over for my senior year in Ohio.
My best friend came with me, just for fun, as part of her summer vacation. With the windows down, us and the wind blowing free, we spent the next several weeks exploring this new part of the country – neither of us having been this far east before. We took day trips to the different theme parks in Ohio, like Kings Island and Cedar Point. And we explored the immediate countryside and small towns close by.
My little sister, going into middle school at a new school, in a new town was reasonably self-conscious about what people thought of her. Always wanting to make a good impression. My crazy friend and I had a high school graduate confidence to us and could care less what others thought. Bored, we decided to tease her one day, dress in horribly tacky outfits, and take her to town to rent a movie.
On our way there, we had to pass through a construction zone, with a flagger, and about half a dozen guys just standing on the side of the road. Being friendly to all the cars passing by with a wave, they slowly stopped waving and just stared at us as we slowly drove by.
On our way back home, we stopped at the Creme Corner – the best local place to get ice cream in our small town in Ohio. It was while we were driving back home, with the windows down, when one of my favorite memories happened. If you ask me to tell the story, to this day, I still break down in a fit of laughter that usually leads to wheezing.
See, my friend and I were jamming to some music, enjoying the ice cream, the wind and the ride home when from the back seat we hear a pitiful cry for help.
“Guys, umm, hey guys, can you please roll up the windows?” To which we replied, “No way! It’s beautiful outside.”
She tried again, “please, please roll up the windows?” We just ignored her.
“GUYS! PLEASE ROLL UP THE WINDOWS!”
After a quick glance in the rear view, I almost crashed my car from laughing so hard. It looked like a gallon of dip in’-dots had exploded all over my back seat, my back window, and my poor little sister. Apparently she was not able to keep up with the ice cream that was melting on her cone, and the wind from the open windows was having some fun distributing it everywhere.
The look on her face was priceless, helpless, covered in speckles of ice cream, hair windblown, and the cone in her hand that just kept melting.