The Sundae, Part 2

My Dad seldom tired of ranting and raving about Sandy. Sandy was our neighbor, his cousin and a Born Again Baptist.

"Oh, she can go to church every Sunday, but she can't even say hi to her neighbor! That's not Christian! What kind of a Christian is she? But I am one of God's chosen people! I read the Bible," he would bellow in a Messianic voice.

"But Dad, you NEVER go to church!"

"Well, son, I'm saving the seats for people who need it more than me!"

I was confused. Whenever I had run into Sandy she had always been really nice and cutesy, in the way people are cutesy with little kids.

"Hey, so what are you up to, big guy?"

To whatever I would answer, she would say "Well, that's really cool!"

She seemed really nice and my instinct was to think of her as being really nice, but my Dad said she was nasty so she must be nasty.

"Oh, Sandy! She's miserable! Too miserable to even say hello to her neighbors! Some Christian she is!"

So my sister and I decided to "get her" with our milkshake.

We put it in the freezer and waited until morning.

There was only one problem. Our parents came home and found our creation.

To Be Continued...