Ice Cream

Soft teeth bit into the cone, a tongue dipped inside and swirled licking the ice cream. The little girl savoured the vanilla cream in her mouth. It was cold and sweet. She sat on the scooter, her small legs not even close to touching the ground. Her back rested against her daddy’s back, while he too was busy enjoying his own ice-cream cone. Her father sat in the front, while she sat at the back. She enjoyed eating ice-cream, but her mummy would not allow her to eat more often. She said she would become sick. The little girl did not understand how something so yummy could make anyone sick.

She tried to take a bigger bite like how her daddy did, but her jaw would not open more. Her daddy seemed to finish the ice-cream in a few bites. His big jaw opened up and closed, chomping down at least half of the ice-cream. She opened her mouth too as wide as possible and took a bite. She looked at her bite, it looked like a nibble compared to her daddy’s bite. She wondered why mummy didn't come with them, it would be nice for all of them to eat ice-cream, yummy ice-cream. Daddy said she did not like ice-cream, the little girl refused to believe that, who did not like soft, sweet, creamy and yummy ice-cream? Maybe her mummy took some silly religious vow to God not to eat ice-cream.

The cone had become as small as her little finger. Her tongue scooped out all the ice-cream. Now all that remained was the tiny brown tapering wafer. She gobbled it up, lifted her leg up and spun herself around, holding the scooter from below for support. “We’ll go?” her daddy asked.

“Yes”

Her daddy pushed the scooter back with his feet. He kicked some metal stick and with a grunt it came to life. The scooter ran on the road headed home.