Mr. 4-Ever and I were driving home from an event on a hot and sunny day. We’d been on the road for hours and I just had to have a break … and a chocolate malt. A jumbo cup of thick, chocolatey deliciousness.
I tried to talk myself out of it but the hankering would not go away.
“What do you think about taking a little break to stretch and maybe have some ice cream?” I asked Mr. 4-Ever. Golden Arches appeared on the horizon of the next exit.
Mind you, McDonald’s will do, but I had something a little different in mind. I wanted hand scooped ice-cream and malt powder mixed whirled together with whole milk.
By divine coincidence, there was an ice cream stand right across from McDonalds.
“Can we go there instead?” I asked Mr. 4-Ever excitedly. He was already in McDonald’s mode: drive-through quick, inexpensive and satisfactory. Already in the turning lane, he said, “No, let’s just stick with McDonald’s.” “Ok,” I drooped, “I have to use the ladies room anyway. I’ll go in and get the shake.”
At the counter, I saw a big “OUT OF ORDER” sign on the machine that oozes ice cream. I was practically giddy as I asked, “Is your milk shake machine working?” “No, I’m so sorry, ma’am. It’s broken. May I get you something else?” “No thank you,” I giggled with delight.