Dear Snowball,
My, how I've missed you! It's been a while since an inadequately thin concession stand napkin has attempted to shield me from your sticky deliciousness!
That styrofoam cup! The damn-near-unnecessary red straw! Your simple beauty never fails to thrill me as you herald the first days of Spring in The Big Easy.
Sure, you didn't go into hiding until somewhere around mid-October - long after the "snowcones" from above the Mason-Dixon had called it a season and snuggled down into their hibernation - but those five months without you seemed an eternity. You have no idea how many unseasonably warm fall and winter days I had to endure without a syrupy-sweet heap of shaved icy goodness in my hands!
And, oh, the many flavors of you! The spicy spearmint my mother orders from the same spot she used to visit as a girl half my age. The effervescent bubble gum, a favorite of my younger sister. And the pina-coloda that my boyfriend requests when he sees me slipping out the front door to rendezvous with you again.
But you know exactly how I like you; draped in pure white and sweet enough to send me into diabetic shock.
Wedding cake. Creme, if it's not too much extra.
And maybe with a dash of strawberry margarita if I'm feeling frisky.
These flavors are symbolic of my life-long commitment to the pursuit of our happiness together; from that first warmish day of Spring to the last blustery kiss in the fall. I vow never to forget you and always to cherish our tasty time together.
Love,
Ophelia
My, how I've missed you! It's been a while since an inadequately thin concession stand napkin has attempted to shield me from your sticky deliciousness!
That styrofoam cup! The damn-near-unnecessary red straw! Your simple beauty never fails to thrill me as you herald the first days of Spring in The Big Easy.
Sure, you didn't go into hiding until somewhere around mid-October - long after the "snowcones" from above the Mason-Dixon had called it a season and snuggled down into their hibernation - but those five months without you seemed an eternity. You have no idea how many unseasonably warm fall and winter days I had to endure without a syrupy-sweet heap of shaved icy goodness in my hands!
And, oh, the many flavors of you! The spicy spearmint my mother orders from the same spot she used to visit as a girl half my age. The effervescent bubble gum, a favorite of my younger sister. And the pina-coloda that my boyfriend requests when he sees me slipping out the front door to rendezvous with you again.
But you know exactly how I like you; draped in pure white and sweet enough to send me into diabetic shock.
Wedding cake. Creme, if it's not too much extra.
And maybe with a dash of strawberry margarita if I'm feeling frisky.
These flavors are symbolic of my life-long commitment to the pursuit of our happiness together; from that first warmish day of Spring to the last blustery kiss in the fall. I vow never to forget you and always to cherish our tasty time together.
Love,
Ophelia
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