Dependence is not evident until you get a glimpse of independence. Let me explain. In my younger years, I remember vividly finally being able to choose which flavor sno-ball I wanted. Ground breaking, right? Well, for me it was because prior to this life changing decision I remember my mother always making this decision for me. One day it was wedding cake, another time it was pina colada (hold the rum please), and I can also remember a coconut flavored sno-ball. What do all three of these flavors have in common? Well, the syrup poured into the ice is actually clear. Yes, all three flavors were clear. So this time, I got to choose. Ha! Licking my lips, I remember like it was the day before yesterday - I had on a brand new all white Lacoste polo style collar with my all-white shorts, and my all-white "G-Nikes" to match.I hopped out of the car, walked to the register with profound confidence and excitement and said to the cashier, "Let me get a Large Ice Cream flavored sno-ball with ice cream on top. You know what! As a matter of fact, sir can you make it an Extra-Large, please?" "Coming right up", he said. As he handed me my ginormous sized sno-ball (no napkins necessary), the tears of excitement across my face were evident. My walk back to my mother's car was like a red carpet entrance. "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me." Like an NFL running back, I juked my way through traffic with the regulation football sized cup in hand gnawing away at the ice cream and sipping while I walked. I was almost there. A couple more steps off of this staircase onto the sidewalk, I saw my mother's gold Dodge Stratus right in front of me, not too much furtherrrr and pow! It happened...I didn't see the last step, and even when I replay the scene back in my head I see everything in slow motion. The miscalculation of the locale of the last step resulted to my ankle severely rolling on the concrete like tumbleweed in the desert, while the red carpet audience all watched from all angles to see my spill in HD 1080P vision of embarrassment for me as my giant sized snowball with ice-cream on top (of course) spilled down my forehead onto my brand new all-white Lacoste shirt like a slow motion episode of eating anything with a 2 year-old. I was mortified. My knee and leg were all scratched up, my shirt yellow as the 2PM sun, my shorts full of presumable piss, my ego on negative 1 trillion, and not to mention how mentally discombobulated I was. All I remember was hearing a choir like gasp from the audience. I got up with the ice cream smeared in my face and of course no napkins in sight as I watched my Extra-Large sno-ball roll into the street. Embarrassed was not the word, I did not want to look back, pissy shirt and all I hopped in my mother's car as I directed her to speed off as she bursted out in laughter as she slowly drove off. Yeah, independence ain't 'allat'.
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