But Ice-cream is fun, Mom!

Word Count: 523

Hey again dear readers! 

This post is going to be an elongated version of a prompt given to us in our last class! I am going to write about my earliest memory that I can remember. Let me preface this all by saying that my memory is actually DEPLORABLE.. 

...Like at all times. To the point that you can tell me something, and I may forget five minutes later. I have to write everything down. I like to blame this on the fact that my mind runs a mile a minute, but I am also kind of starting to believe that I just have a small burnt out brain that can only remember so much – who knows. Getting back to the story, I would also like to mention that I am not sure if I actually remember this story myself, or if I'm just remembering a story that my mother or father has told me... but we'll run with it anyway. SO... my first remembered memory was of my father's father feeding me ice-cream as a wee baby. It is the only memory I have of this man because he passed soon after, unfortunately. I remember that the ice-cream was extremely cold (obviously) and green in color... now part of me thinks that it was mint chocolate chip but another part of me is now thinking pistachio.

 Again, who knows? What I do know, is that if someone tried to feed me mint chocolate chip ice-cream this day in age, we would be fighting! I don't like chocolate and I hate even the idea of mint ice-cream. Who even decided to make mint ice-cream a thing? Why does it exist? The inventor couldn't just brush his or her teeth? They have to put it in food too? Gross.  

Like I was saying, the ice-cream was extremely cold and that is about all I remember about the ice-cream itself.. I am pretty sure that is all he gave me. My mom was SPAZZING (as she does about pretty much everything). She didn't want me having the ice-cream in the first place (I guess because I was young and it was too cold?), but my father's dad did it anyway. From what I understand, he was a clown so this would definitely be the expected reaction to anyone telling him not to do anything. His son, my father, was the same way and gave him the go ahead (despite my mother's spazzing). I don't really remember much else besides the laughter of my grandfather and father, and the straight face my mother had. I want to say that we were inside some type of hospital or institution, as opposed to someone's house because I remember bright white lighting and a really clean, minimalist setting. Maybe the walls were cream as I'm imagining, or maybe I'm remembering wrong, or MAYBE this is all a dream? Ok, it definitely is not a dream, but whatever. Thanks for reading, as usual, y'all! 

P.S - I hope someone besides the professor is actually reading my funny words. Also, the illustration of this story through pictures can be found below!

Don't make fun of my stick figures!