The” Sunday “Cone

I have been a very good girl all week, and I deserve a treat!

That is why every Sunday, dad takes me out after service for something sweet.

I love ice cream flavors of every sort. My favorite is vanilla covered in caramel,

chocolate,  and those little sprinkle candies. My dad loves strawberry ice cream,

in a bowl.  I don’t know why but he never gets it on a cone. He tops it with

peanuts and whipped cream and a cherry. My mommy doesn’t come to

have ice cream with us because she is not supposed to eat anything made

with dairy.  I race to finish my ice cream against my little brother Harry.  

He ‘s  just too slow.  First he eats the sprinkles off one by one.

Then, he takes a big bite of his chocolate ice cream and lets it

melt on his tongue.  He tries to catch up to me, but his ice cream is

already starting to run.  I start to laugh because the sun is making his

ice cream drip. His hands are covered and sticky from the melted ice cream.

He tries to sip up the last of it but it’s too late, “I’m finished!” I scream.