Love and Ice Cream
By Robert John Miller
The Sunday sundae escalated quickly after we came up with the catchy name, both in terms of frequency and in number of scoops. It started out as a one-pint celebration, who knows what for, but I remember it was on a Sunday, which is where the name came from. So pretty soon it was just what we did any time something special came up, and Papa would joke that "it's always Sunday somewhere," because he'd say he was going for a pint but he was really just going for ice cream, like that joke about how "it's always five o'clock somewhere." Anyway after Mama left he started going through about a quart just to get through the day, and he was doing at least 3 gallons a week before he finally got help, but that was pretty close near the end. I would always eat with him, though, to keep him company. Even now I feel like I'm walking around in a spotlight if there's not at least a place to pick up a cone somewhere nearby.
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Robert John Miller's work has appeared or is forthcoming in Negative Suck, Bartleby Snopes, Camroc Press Review, and also here at Weirdyear. He lives in the Midwest. You can read more at http://bobsoldout.com.
By Robert John Miller
The Sunday sundae escalated quickly after we came up with the catchy name, both in terms of frequency and in number of scoops. It started out as a one-pint celebration, who knows what for, but I remember it was on a Sunday, which is where the name came from. So pretty soon it was just what we did any time something special came up, and Papa would joke that "it's always Sunday somewhere," because he'd say he was going for a pint but he was really just going for ice cream, like that joke about how "it's always five o'clock somewhere." Anyway after Mama left he started going through about a quart just to get through the day, and he was doing at least 3 gallons a week before he finally got help, but that was pretty close near the end. I would always eat with him, though, to keep him company. Even now I feel like I'm walking around in a spotlight if there's not at least a place to pick up a cone somewhere nearby.
- - -
Robert John Miller's work has appeared or is forthcoming in Negative Suck, Bartleby Snopes, Camroc Press Review, and also here at Weirdyear. He lives in the Midwest. You can read more at http://bobsoldout.com.
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