Not worth a Kona Ice

I don’t ask for much, learned not to over the years.  You get tired of the crazy looks like, “did you really just ask for something?” Or the classic, “we don’t have enough money.” Or my all time favorite, “Are you kidding?  How long will I have to watch the kids?”

So, that new bra, because I’m down to one that my bodacious boobies haven’t broken, nope, not gonna get it…. The yard mowed since I’m not allowed to touch the lawn mower and I’m tired of having to pull up grass so the kids can play in the sandbox…. Hell no, not gonna happen until he’s damn well ready and if I ask, it will take even longer to happen.  Or, a chance to see my friend, any friend, for any amount of time…. of course not, silly woman!!

But, as I sat here, us barely talking from the last tiff, a steel drum rhythm gets my hips a boppin…. at first, I think I’m crazy, where in the world could this music be coming from with such sweet clarity.  As it gets louder, I realize, it must be an ice-cream truck, we have a few that circle the neighborhood.  Then, with the sun setting behind it, it comes into view….. no mere ice-cream truck….. it is a Kona Ice truck!

The best thing on a hot Texas day, ok, one of the best, I get enthusiastic about many things in life.  So, being the silly girl, swept up in the awe and excitement of the steel drum island music and sweet remembrance of a raspberry Kona Ice, I beg him to let me have one.  Not even considering it, “No”.  I playfully tried to get him to change his mind without success and was met repeatedly with increasing anger and a “No”.  So accepting defeat, I softly say, “I used to be worth the hassle of getting far more than a Kona Ice”

Sorry girl, you’re not worth it anymore.  I’ll sit here and puddle.

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