A doting, little old lady approached my till just after I was done looking after a band of flowery-looking preeten girls. "How much ice cream is in a small cone?" she asked me.
I grabbed a cone from the dispenser, napkin in hand, and demonstrated with my fingers the appoximate size of small cone. "We also have a kids' size," I went on to say, "it goes to about here."
"Oh my!" she exclaimed. "Those are big sizes, aren't they?"
"Yes ma'am, they are," I agreed.
"I think I'll have a small cone of Butter Pecan, then," she decided.
"Alright," I told her, and went on off to the other side of the store to scoop it.
I didn't even hear her tiny little feet plodding along next to me until she spoke with a sense of urgency, "Do you think I should get the kids' size?" she asked me, "will the small size break the cone?"
I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. "No, ma'am," I assured her, "we do much larger sizes in these cones. I'm sure it can hold up a small."
She nodded, but her expression still looked concerned. I suppose not all of us are born to order larges.
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