My two favorite words: Hershey’s, and Ice Cream.
(….Isn’t that three words? …. Just go with it…)
We have a little ice cream shop in the tiny hamlet of Beallsville, Maryland. It sits caddy-corner to our firehouse, at the cross roads of Beallsville Road and Rt. 28.
The building itself has seen many incarnations. It used to be a restaurant named “Staub’s,” known for it’s amazing hush puppies. It’s been many other things too. But right now it is used by a local family, The Harney Family, Gary, Paul, and Gibbie, for a variety of purposes, the greatest and most noble of which is Ice Cream.
They also have a locksmith, security business, gift shop, and other things.
But did I mention the Ice Cream?
I can walk away from most things, but I can’t seem to drive past The Twisted Cone. And if I did, the Varmint and Critter in the back seat would make their objections known most audibly… And possibly painfully.
My first mistake was starting a tradition during the last school year where every Friday I would drive my Brats up for Ice Cream after school.
It wasn’t long before we were doing frequent mid-week stops.
And then of course we had to make stops after sporting events: Track, Softball, Thumb Wars, Rock Paper Scissor Games, those kinds of things.
At some point someone dared us to try every flavor. I think it was one of the owners.
We don’t back down from dares.
All I know is that it’s one of our “Happy Places”. A place my kids will remember when they are older.
You know, when I’m dead, after my arteries have fully occluded.
But I will have died happy, that’s for darn sure!
