Hot Fudge is Hot
Don’t play with matches. Look before you cross the street. Wash you hands before you eat. Go to the bathroom before we leave. When I was growing up my parents were always giving me these commands and I never understood why. Until one day I realized that within every order they give, lies a hidden life lesson. They were only trying to prepare me for life. It is hard to say but, I believe in listening to my parents. Around the age of six, me, my sister, Karrie and my dad went to the Bremen movie theatre to see the dollar show. Right next to the theatre was a “fifties-looking” diner with the black and white tiles, the pink bar stools and a jukebox in the corner. My dad took us over there first because the movie wasn’t starting right away. My sister got a banana split, my dad got a chocolate shake and I got two scoops of vanilla ice cream with hot fudge on the side. We got our ice cream and sat at one of the umbrella tables in the middle of the patio area. I remember there being a lot of people around us. My sister was digging into her bowl, my dad was slurping down his shake and I was waiting. “Let the fudge cool down. It’s really hot and you’ll burn yourself,” my dad says. I always listened when he told me to brush my teeth before bed and put my dirty dishes in the dishwasher, but this was the one thing I wasn’t going to do, I wasn’t waiting. I grabbed the cup of hot fudge and quickly tried to pour it on my ice cream without my dad seeing. I was in a such a rush that I missed the ice cream and poured the entire cup of steaming, hot fudge on my hand. I threw the cup of hot fudge across the table and started screaming at the top of my lungs. I was shaking my hand drastically from left to right and up and down in order to rid myself of the flesh-eating fudge. I made such a scene and after I stopped convulsing, my dad told me I looked like a “poop-storm;” the brown spots splattered all over my white tee shirt and blonde hair. Everyone was starring and my loving sister and dad were adding insult to injury because they couldn’t stop laughing. That was the day I learned to be patient. I believe in listening to my parents. I learned that when your parents tell you what to do or what not to do, it is for the better. Every time my parents tell me-don’t stay out late, no speeding, call your grandma and boys are trouble-I listen, because now I know hot fudge is hot.
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