I recall my Dad walking up to the roadside ice cream stand (which wasn't around more than one summer season) ordering hot fudge sundaes, then shaking his head and walking empty handed back toward the car. "They aren't selling sundaes," said my Dad.
Someone in the car asked: "Are they out of ice cream?" To which my Dad replied: "No, she said they don't sell sundaes on Sunday."
I think we settled for milkshakes. Everyone knows you don't go to hell for mixing up a chocolate shake on Sunday. We drank them while sitting in our car in the parking lot.
That part of the experience wasn't unusual. There weren't many drive-through fast-food options available in Nicholas County, WV circa 1976-1983, but my family had a regular routine on those days we found one. Dad and Mom would cobble together an order, drive through, then park the car and eat in the parking lot beside the restaurant.
My family almost never ate inside a restaurant. I think it was due mainly to my Dad's social anxiety, but the vast majority of the burgers, fries, and ice cream cones I ate were consumed in the back seat on our green-colored sedan.
I couldn't help be reminded of that as I ate my Value Meal #4 in the parking lot at Wendy's.
The apple doesn't fall far.