SWEET MEMORIES

by Dean Grondo 

A child-like lust filled me as I watched the smiling lady behind the counter heap ice cream into a silver dish. A soft banana and chewy choco bits came next. With a knowing grin, she placed herself before the syrup dispenser. My mouth watered as chocolate oozed onto the banana split. Hurry! A tiny giggle shook the woman's body as she continued. A long metal canister sprayed clouds of creamy white foam with whooshing sounds. My eyes grew bigger as plump red cherries dropped over the magnificent creation. The woman wiped a hand on her smock, turned, and announced with a broad smile, "Here." 
     For a second I stared with awe. Then I clawed the spoon and plunged in, enjoying all the creamy sweetness. The woman watched over me and sighed with satisfaction. My Dad, that elusive friend/mentor/deity who stood ten feet tall and laughed like soft rain that tickled my tummy, stood smiling beside me in the five-and-dime store.      NEXT