Snowcones

Pin It I went to a ball game yesterday for an old student. Well, not an OLD student as he is only 12. As I sat at the game, I suddenly began to notice that the group around me at large was all eating snow cones. Now, I happen to love snow cones. I remember looking forward to getting them every time my family and I went to Chataqua each year or the country fair.

Feeling this definite need, I strode to the concessions stand where I unfortunately had to wait behind a group of prepubescent, giggly girls. After a millennia of deciding what it was that they wanted, the kid behind the counter promptly went off to get their various and sundry items. I have a distinct feeling that he felt he needed to make the cheese for their nachos himself and freeze the ice especially for these girls, I felt this as I realized that I was aging as I stood there…waiting.

Yet the incessant beckon of the snow cone was relentless.

I waited.

After a few major holidays had passed—as well as a few birthdays—the girls finally left the stand talking a bit louder and acting a bit more goofy than necessary. Ah, the inhibitions of youth (or perhaps idiocy). It became my turn at the window.

“Once snow cone, please…lime.”

The boy nodded to show his comprehension and, this time heading off to Antarctica to get the ice, finally returned with my frozen delight sometime between then and the millennium. However, this did not matter; I just knew it would be worth the wait in the end. Already my palette was watering for a taste of that syrupy-sweetened icy goodness.

I returned to the game and discovered that an entire inning has lapsed in my absence. Curse those giggly girls! Ah well, it mattered not. I had my snow cone and I was ready to enjoy it.

I took my first bite.

It didn’t taste…right. What had happened to that wonderful arctic goodness? To that sickly-sweet flavor? To the wintry-sugary taste?

Something was definitely amiss. This was not the same delightful treat I’d enjoyed as a kid. This was not what I’d envisioned as I stood at the counter…feeling my lifetime draining away..

I did eat about half of the snow cone, more out of duty than enjoyment. Finally, I decided that it wasn’t worth it in the end and threw the remainder in the trash.

The game soon ended, and the team I’d been supporting was victorious. However, I still felt unfilled. I drove home and made a batch of cookie dough. I haven’t eaten any yet, but it’s in the freezer, waiting…thank goodness for that doughy-cookie goodness.

Who needs snow cones anyway?