The summer of 2007 my mother sent my sisters and me to Puerto Rico. We stayed with my Grandma Elsa, she was the coolest, like Elsa from Frozen. My great grandmother, Abuela Feline, lived in a small house underneath Grandma Elsa’s house. Abuela Feline was the best cook you could ever imagine, she was the witch from Hansel and Gretel, but significantly less murderous. Every morning there were bowls and bowls of rice, plantains, and quenepas. Five year old me was never really that picky when it came to food. I would eat anything ranging from Goldfish to scrumptious dirt pies I ate in my backyard. I loved food, I mean I still do, but not as much. I used to eat anything I could get my hands on, but there was one dessert my tastebuds could not agree with, Limber. More specifically Limber de Coco. What exactly was it? It’s similar to ice cream and a snow cone mixed together with coconut milk. That little cup of heaven seemed to screech my name every time I opened the freezer door.
“Try me Devin. You know you want me, so come and get,” those Limbers tempted me like Lucifer …show more content…
Everyday, my sister and I would race to Grandma Feline’s house, and everyday, I insisted I had one taste, hoping that it would taste different than it did the day before. “Dominique, I PROMISE I will eat it whole.” She always said I wouldn’t, but she couldn’t let me not have it. Without fail, I would lick the top and force my sister to eat two each day. Let’s just say my sister wasn’t the happiest about it. When we got home that is all my sister complained about. I guess that was the summer I really learned the true meaning of