My grandfather was born in 1915 in rural West Texas and lived on next to nothing. When he and his brother were 10 and 8, their father took them to meet the traveling ice cream vendor. At that time, ice cream only made it around every year or two, and this was their first experience. He had saved his allowance for 3 weeks to purchase his first cone of ice cream which cost 3 cents at the time. He chose Strawberry. He had never seen a strawberry, so this sounded exotic. They sat down, and to their dismay discovered their ice cream was full of bugs. After a few minutes under the scorching sun of attempting to pick out the bugs, they gave up and sat with their head in their hands until the vendor kindly came by with another cone and explained that strawberries have seeds. Those were not bugs. My grandfather and his brother, with tears in their eyes, thanked the ice cream man and devoured their ice cream cone. This was to be one of the few positive memories of young childhood my grandfather had as his mother had died when he was an infant, and his father would only be with them another few years. He told me this story as we sat, in the middle of a West Texas scorching sun, eating OUR strawberry ice cream cones as we did every summer from the time I could first eat them until he died in 2000. You want to guess what my favorite thing to eat with my family is?<br />(I reposted because my name didn&#39;t show up.. pout)