Store bought whipped cream

So my mom, Thelma had a real surprise for us after dinner. She had picked up strawberries and she had baked a shortcake. Mom had also picked something that we have only heard of. Whipped cream in a can that had some kind of a spray nozzle. Unheard of way back then. My dad, Harry had to be the first one to spray the whipped cream. Back then the little cap and nozzle had little tabs of some kind that had to be in place for it to work. Well Harry read about as many instructions as most men.

Off came the cap and snap went the little tabs. Shake the can like mad and point it upside down. "Nothing" "Harry what does it say on the can, Thelma asked. "dirty look inserted here" Shake the can some more, point it down. "Nothing"

All three of us kids are trying to be first in line. Dad is getting a little upset, but nothing will get in Harrys way when it comes to working out a problem. I think he tryed to look at the instructions without any of us seeing him. What happened next will go down in the history books of the Grewe kids.

Dad set the can down on the counter, picked up an ice pick, placed the pointy end down the nozzle and hit the top of the handle with the palm of his hand. Now we live in a real old house that has twelve foot ceilings with curved edges. The old lathe and plaster stuff from the late 1800s.
Ill bet if you went to the house in Alameda you would still find dried up whipped cream on the celling. Dad looked like Santa and us kids were all but licking the shirt off of him.

We all had a good laugh, and some of the whipped cream did get on the strawberries and short cake. The whipped cream we had to whip ourselves still beats the stuff that comes out of a can. I think of this every time I use the store bought stuff. My cat and I go through at least a can a week. I call him sugar lips.