The Ice Cream Shop

“Those are weird flavors,” Charlie said.

His mom looked down at him. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

“The ice cream flavors,” he repeated. “I suppose doughnut ice cream could be good, but it depends on the doughnut, right?”

His mother looked in the direction of Charlie’s stare. The new ice cream store hadn’t listed their flavors by the window but rather their offerings. She started explain that to Charlie but he was still talking.

“– and sandwich ice cream? What kind of sandwich?”

He paused and his mother almost jumped in again, but he got excited and exclaimed, “OH! I get it! It’s not sandwich flavored ice cream! That would be silly!”

His mother smiled and nodded encouragingly.

“It’s ice cream sandwiches! Right, Mom?”

“Yes, but, no –” she started.

“Baking ice cream??” Charlie read incredulously. “You can’t bake ice cream. Even I know that.”

His mother thought about mentioning Baked Alaska, but Charlie plowed on.

“Ice cream flavored ice cream?!” he said. “That’s not a real flavor, is it?”

His eyes moved down to the last placard by the ice cream window. “Gifts and more,” he read. He shook his head, puzzled.

A young woman leaned out the open service window. “Would you like to try this?” she asked, holding out a dish of ice cream. “I took our ice cream flavored ice cream and added some doughnuts for extra flavor, then I put it in a sandwich and baked it a little. It’s my gift to you.”

---

This is my submission to the Unicorn Challenge. (250 words based on the photo) I know, I know — it’s not really an ice cream shop, and it’s not an ice cream window. I just kept staring at the wee Highland cow and was stumped.