Ah...an ice cream cone.
I've never learned to eat with chopsticks, and
I've never mastered the art of licking an ice cream cone. It always
gets the best of me - dripping relentlessly. I remember sitting on a bench with a 7-year old one sunny August afternoon. We had just gotten our cones and started to lick them at precisely the same moment. But it soon became apparent that he was born with a special gene, allowing him to finish his cone unscathed. His shirt was spotless; no rivulets of melted ice cream enveloping his pristine cone-holding hand.
I, on the other hand, just couldn't keep up. Not a pretty picture.
I, on the other hand, just couldn't keep up. Not a pretty picture.
So, wherever you are young man, I salute you with this photographic essay
on snazzy ice cream cones.
My favorite - plain, old vanilla!
Painting by Fritz Scholder
Photos via Pinterest.com
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