Tugging at Her Chain

My daughter, Anne, is so much fun. We stopped this afternoon at the frozen custard stand. (Frozen custard is ice cream with extra calories in it.) The "flavor of the day" was strawberry, which is not one of our favorites these days, but there is other food there and Anne wanted to see what the "monthly sundae" was.

It is winter now, so Anne and I went into the covered area to order. The monthly sundae is "Dirt Cake" this month and Anne, seeing it listed on the white board, said, "Oooh, I want a monthly sundae."

"Are you sure?" I asked, remembering that Anne has recently been complaining about feeling sick when she eats large amounts of sugar.

"Yep. That's what I want," she stated.

"They have lots of other food here," I offered, "You can have aaanything you want. You could have soup or mozzarella sticks...what are you doing?"

Anne had walked over to the single bench in the covered area and was beginning to sit down.  She responded, "You just go ahead and keep talking till you are done. I told you what I want."

I sighed as I responded, "Aaalriiight.... Yoouu are the one complaining about feeling sick when you eat too much sugar, but faaar be it from meee..." I allowed my words to trail off as I turned to the window.

"Two monthly sundaes, please," I ordered. The woman at the window took my order and my money. I have seen her many times before, but she is not one of the workers I generally flirt with and I do not know her name. Over her shoulder, though, I made eye contact with Roman.

"Oh, hey!" He exclaimed when he saw me.

Turning to Anne, I prodded, "I bet I'll be done with my sundae before you are."

"I bet you won't," she countered.

"Well, that's only because you can eat while I drive. But I would beat you if I didn't have to drive."

Anne did not even bother to respond. She is 16 1/2 and wants to drive. We both know that she would have her driver's license and be willing to drive home so I could eat my frozen treat first if I could afford to pay the insurance premiums. That is not the case, and she did not take my bait to play-argue about it.

Within moments, Roman was at the pick-up window with our sundaes.

"Oh, would you pack this to go? I try not to eat ice cream while I drive," I asked.

"Both of them," he wanted to know, but Anne was already taking her sundae off the counter. Roman took my dish to put a lid on it.

I pointed to Anne accusingly, "She's only going to beat me because she is making me drive."

"Oh, Really?" Roman handed my bagged sundae back to me and folded his hands. He looked like he was about to say something, but Anne was already bending over to look up through the window at him. She pulled her spoon out of her mouth.

With eyebrows raised she added, "That's only because she won't let me get my driver's license."

Roman unfolded his hands. "Well, then!" he stated, but I had already turned towards the door and started walking.

"It's too expensive," I said as I walked through the door, smiling. Anne had known the answer all along. That is why she did not bother to comment on the matter when I was teasing her. There was no point.

Ah, yes. Good times teasing Anne at the custard stand. Someday when she is old, she will look back on these times and remember how her mother loved to gently tug at her chain.