soft serve

My gramma would eat a "soft serve" for each meal of the day. Whenever we go out, I say, "Did you want to go through a drive thru for some ice cream, Gramma?" And she says, "Pih-kick," tilts up her little shoulder, and snaps her long fingers in the air. That's Gramma-talk for "ASAP!" I think the thing she likes most about where her new home is situated is that it has a McDonald's to the north and a Dairy Queen to the south. She likes to eat it out of a cup and save the cone to eat as a cookie at the end. When the cone gets to the paper wrap, she gives it to me and says, "Here you go, honey." I unwrap it and she says, "Oh! There's more!" and eats it.

My mother has inherited this affinity to soft serve ice cream and magnified it to
include all other kinds of ice cream. My mother doesn't discriminate....unless its meant to be hard and it's soft and foamy. That bugs her. A girl has to have standards.

This photo shows Gramma as we waited in line for soft serve. I love, love, love her.