It was one of those alone times that I got to spend most of the day alone with my Grandfather. Grandpa had decided that I needed something to do when I came to visit and there was a huge tree behind the house that needed a swing in it. I didn't understand why he thought it needed a swing but a swing sounded like a good idea to me, I loved to swing.
So that day Grandpa and I got up early, ate breakfast and headed to town a few miles away. Our first stop was the hardware store. I had no idea what we needed for a swing but Grandpa had it under control. He told the store keeper how much rope and the size we needed and a piece of wood, I can't remember what it was but he told the man a specific kind of wood. Grandpa took great pains inspecting the wood and the rope and showed it to me asking how it looked to me.
Of course I had no idea but because Grandpa said it looked good I agreed with him and we left the store with our purchases. We didn't however head home to put the swing in the tree. Grandpa insisted that before we could build a swing we had to have ice cream. "No swing is going to come out right without ice cream first," was what he said. He placed the bag of swing supplies in the back of his truck and we headed across the street to the ice cream parlor.
I don't remember ever being to a place like this. There were little tables with chairs and a counter that stretched along one whole wall. Under the glass topped counter were more kinds of ice cream than I had ever seen. Grandpa knew the lady behind the counter and he announced this, looking towards me, is my oldest granddaughter and we are going to build a swing today so we need some special ice cream first.
The lady smiled and told us both that all of their ice cream was special and she was sure she had just what we needed for swing building. Grandpa said good and proceeded to direct my attention to the big tubs of ice cream telling me to get whatever I wanted. I think we spent and hour me asking and Grandpa telling me what each kind of ice cream was. But as usual I decided on the strawberry, my favorite.
The lady took out a scoop and started to pile one scoop on top of another. Grandpa decided to have the same as me saying he thought I made a very good choice. I beamed, loving to get Grandpa's approval. The lady behind the counter said the same thing, perfect choice for swing building. Grandpa said we had to eat the ice cream there because Grandma would be mad if we didn't bring her some but it would melt before we got it home to her.
We sat there in the pretty little chairs eating our ice cream and Grandpa talking to several different people as they came and went. I know I got too much ice cream but didn't want to disappoint Grandpa so ate every bit of it. It was delicious, big chunks of real strawberries. When we finished our ice cream Grandpa announced it was time to get to work now and we headed back to his truck and home.
When we got home Grandma had 50 questions about why it took us so long, she had thought we'd only be gone a few minutes. Grandpa informed her that the hardware store was busy and he wanted to make sure he got just the right rope and board. Grandpa didn't tell her about going to the ice cream parlor. It was about that same time I started to feel sick to my stomach.
To be continued.....
Published by Faith Draper
Faith's writing experience includes a weekly women's newsletter, published in a contemporary issues book, as well as 100s of content articles and several e-books as a ghostwriter. She has lived all over the... View profile
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3 Comments
Post a CommentMy grandfather was a milkman who delivered milk with a horse and wagon when he first started doing deliveries.
This reminds me of The Parlour (or Loud's; or the All Star Dairy) in Jackson...
I loved this, Faith! I also had wonderful grandparents.