My mother hates sprinkles. Despises them actually. Jimmies, nonpareils, sanding sugar; if it can be categorized as a sprinkle, she hates it. So it makes sense that, at the age of 8, she tried to veer me away from my favorite ice cream topping at Rockie’s Frozen yogurt and over to her favorite.

It didn’t stick (sorry mom, but Heath Bar pales in comparison to rainbow sprinkles). For as long as I can remember, I have gotten vanilla soft serve with rainbow sprinkles. I went through a couple phases of different flavor combinations, like fudge brownie with cookie dough or Reeses soft serve with Reeses Pieces (which was a star for a good 3 years), but one way or another, I always ended up with my favorite. My vanilla with rainbow sprinkles. The consistent classic that never let me down.

It is a flavor combination that has grown up with me. Literally, around 12, my mom let me get a size up. Through all the ups and downs of my tumultuous life, I have been able to venture those three blocks over to Rockie’s and get that infamous vanilla soft serve. 

Whatever emotion I was feeling, Rockies was there. It elevated the highs and cushioned the lows throughout my entire childhood. From heartbreaks to broken bones, the Rockie’s cow has seen me at every stage of life, grief, and love. My mom bought me a vanilla with rainbow sprinkles when I was suffering my first period cramps. (She would sometimes even let me get a bigger size if I had good grades.) My advisor, after connecting with me through our respective families’ traditions at Rockies, bought me a Reese’s shake from the same shop when I got my wisdom teeth removed. We got Rockies after my soccer team won our first tournament. We got Rockies after I starred in my school’s production of Frozen as Elsa.

But as high school started, my family’s frequent visits to Rockies dwindled to a handful a year. I occasionally got the hankering for some vanilla with rainbow sprinkles but buried it down and did angsty teen things instead. That is until the wonderful, marvelous year of 2020. (I’m kidding, I hated that year, but I am appreciative of it.) I learned lots about myself, but that’s not what this is about. 2020 was a year where I, as I'm sure many others did as well, reminisced about the before times. I recalled my childhood, the days I took for granted and eventually stumbled upon the buried down ice cream shop down the road. I went online to look it up. They were still open. 

Thank. God. 

I grabbed my keys and went to the living room. I asked a question I had so timidly asked thousands of times before.

“Can I go to Rockies?”

This was met with stifled laughter and reminiscent yes. I could tell she was remembering little me running up to her, pleading for her to let me have my favorite treat. I asked what she wanted. I should have guessed it. Vanilla with Heath Bar. I laughed, grabbed my mask, and headed out the door. 

When I walked inside, it looked exactly the same, just with the tables and chairs tapped off. The same friendly cow paintings adorned the walls. He was still visiting landmarks across the world (that were obviously made of ice cream). As I walked up to the counter and the worker asked what she could get me, I recited with a smile,

“A junior vanilla with rainbow sprinkles. To-go please.”