The alarm went off, as usual, at 6:20 a.m. this morning to a radio dude announcing that it was already 80 degrees outside. Where is a hammer when you need it? It was way too early AND it was going to be very hot again. A most deadly combination. Doesn’t it seem like it has been crispy, crunchy hot for years? Heck, I can’t remember the last time I have even turned on the oven. It is probably why one of my friends last week just had to ask the “question” on Facebook. How are you staying cucumber cool in all this heat? My posted comment was something like … hold an ice cube smack dab in the middle of your forehead. I know … not a very creative answer. I blame it on the roasty and toasty conditions of late. It has surely deep-fried some of the old brain cells. I noticed lots of great “keeping cool” suggestions posted. My absolute favorite was: “We had Maggie Moos for dinner. Yes, ice cream. I think it qualifies as medicinal.” I say absolutely. Wish I had thought of that one. I suspect ice cream for dinner would be totally fine with our special needs daughter. Ever since Mimi got back from summer camp near Brenham, the ice cream capital of Texas, she has been requesting a scoop every night. Not after dinner like a dessert course, mind you, but right before bed. Now her enunciation isn’t always the clearest. It actually sounds more like “I scream” than “ice cream,” but still, not too hard to figure out. The first night it happened, Hubby and I raised our eyebrows. We looked at each other kinda puzzled. Mimi had never done that before. After a bowl of vanilla with a generous swirl of chocolate syrup just the way she likes it, Rick and I had to agree on one thing. For a young lady with just a 200 word vocabulary, it was great to see she had her priorities straight. I mean “ice cream” would definitely be on my list if I could only have 200 words at my disposal. And yet, we were a tad conflicted. “Geez Mimi, do we really want to start this habit? You could turn into a little pudge ball in no time chowing down on Blue Bell every night,” I sighed placing the very last spoonful into her mouth. I suspect Miss Beverly, Mimi’s “camp buddy,” had a little something to do with this new request. Now this year was Miss Beverly’s first time to be a “camp buddy.” When we met I silently wondered if she was up to the task. Mimi could be a little handful. Miss Beverly was an older lady and had the most lovely smile. She was also a special education teacher in a Houston school district. I liked her the moment we met the afternoon I dropped Mimi off at camp. I recall when I picked Mimi up five days later that Miss Beverly mentioned she had a little confession to make. She musta thought I would be ticked off for some reason because there was a long pause before continuing. It seems the two of them paid a late night visit to the dining hall for some Blue Bell every night before bed. I just smiled, gave her a big hug and handed her a little gift. She wouldn’t find out till later, but it was a couple of ceramic ice cream bowls and scoop from the Blue Bell Creamy. Yep, I liked how Miss Beverly rolled. It certainly beat the time, over 10 years ago now, when Mimi had a young buddy that used lots of fake burping to distract our daughter when she became fretful. The buddy would burp and then Mimi would burp right back at her. Then there was a lot of giggling. And they would in essence, wash, rinse and repeat the whole burping/giggling scenario all over again … about a thousand times. Certainly not very lady-like, but it was pretty funny at the time. That is until we got home and our daughter found a new partner-in-crime … her little brother. The two continued the burping and giggling back and forth. It ceased to be funny when it happened in church. We spent the next two Sundays camping out in the church’s cry room until our kids could get their burping issues under control. At least a couple of things are for certain … I’m hoping Mimi gets Miss Beverly next year as her camp buddy … and that morning weather dude on the radio better work on getting that 6:20 a.m. wake-up call below 80 degrees. Dixie Frantz is a long-time Kingwood resident and newspaper columnist since 1996. E-mail Dixie with your comments at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

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