No Use Crying Over Spilled - Ice Cream

                                         

Harry met me for lunch today and after we consumed our heavenly and delicious meal of hamburgers, shoestring fries and buckets of soda, we (or more accurately, ME, I, myself) decided that the perfect follow-up for such a health-conscious meal would be a large ice cream cone.

We mosey on down to Baskin and Robbins and peruse their sweet selections of 31 or more flavors.  I finally settle on the classic Prailines and Cream while Harry defied gravity with a double decker of chocolate chip.  As I am delicately slurping on the sides of the cone that I have paid for with my hard-earned money (that I probably stole from Harry) , I look over and notice that my dear hubby has chowed down and only has .5 of a single scoop left while I'm still balancing a large bauble of ice cream on my sugar cone. 

"My God! Where'd your ice cream go?!" I pointed at his tiny cone and laughed. He carefully peeled away layers of paper and started eating the cone as well.

"You just don't eat fast enough."

"I want to enjoy my ice cream. I want to savor it.  I want -" That's when it happened.  I had begun to peel off my own paper wrapping when my cone exploded and showered my black sweater with sugar cone schrapnel.  "Uh, uh - uh." 

Harry looked over and popped the last bit of his cone into his mouth.  He then leaned on one arm and began systematically picking the bits of cone off of my breasts and eating them.  I rolled the last of the prailines and cream onto a napkin - the only one I had - and sat there as he continued to pick my shirt clean like a monkey with a head full of lice. 

"Uh - thanks?"  I questioned him as he was brushing my chest off with his hands - concentrating a little too much on my vuluptious regions.

"No problem.  Ooooh - lemmie go get you another one." His eyes sparkled with mischief. 

"No - I'm okay, thanks," I said.

"No - really - lemmie go get you another cone.  I wanna tell the lady that you exploded your ice cream cone all over yourself,"  he hopped out of the car and nodded to me in pure happiness at my misery.

I was sticky.

"GET. IN. THE. CAR. NOW!"  I said lovingly - and at the top of my lungs.

Harry reluctantly got back into the car and pouted.  "Ya know, you're supposed to peel it from the top..." 

I gritted my teeth:  "It EXPLODED.  Even if I were to have taken my time and peeled it from the top - it still would've EXPLODED all over me!" 

He chuckled and chose wisely to end the conversation at that moment.