The Ice Cream Wars

My mother lives about 15 miles away. Except for a small, springy Jack Russel terrier, she lives alone. That she lives alone and within a relative close distance to my house both contribute to rather frequent visits.

It might be on her way to bingo at this or that church or school. Or to pick up one of her grandchildren to go here or there. Sometimes she even makes dinner and trucks it to our house. Any number of reasons. Whatever the reason for the visit, she usually also has some sort of care package. I guess she can't stand to see a coupon go to waste.

So she might show up with cat food. Good, we have many, many cats. Or she might show up with cereal. Fine, we eat cereal. And then sometimes it's ice cream.

Now...you remember I have an issue with ice cream, yes?

I have no complaints with her bringing ice cream. None at all.

The problem is this.

When it comes to ice cream flavors, there are those who are the bulwark of the ice cream industry, buying chocolate and vanilla and maybe, on a special holiday or something, Neopolitan. Then there are those other people.

I'm in the former category. BORING! I hear you cry. But, it my defense, ice cream is, in large part, merely a vehicle for hot fudge and bananas. You just don't want to go polluting that with all kinds of flavors of craziness.

I will admit that sometimes I will spring for the occational Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough or Cookies and Cream or, perahps, Chocolate Marshmallow. But, they are usually just variations on the original theme.

I am...uh...mmm...the most, ... let's say accomplished ice cream eater in the house. The other memebers of my darling little family like ice cream but...not like I do. So I, being the head ice cream eater and grocery shopper, get to pick the ice cream flavors. And, fortunately, all the subject of my little frozen dairy queendom are usually happy with my choices.

My mother, on the other hand, will bring flavors such as Strawberries and Cream or Black Cherry or Something With Nuts Which Should Be A Punishable Offense. She buys the ice cream she likes to eat.

She and my dad pretty much shared the same taste in ice cream so you can imagine what it was like growing up in that house when you are a chocolate/vanilla lover. It's not that she never got chocolate or vanilla. But I was just a peasant in her frozen dairy queendom at the time. It would kind of be like if you had a pack of wild dogs and, for the most part, tossed them loaves of stale bread as their main source of food. Sure, they'll eat it because there's nothing else. But then, once in a while, you throw them a London Broil. Guess how long it lasts. Right.

And it's not that she will even eat ice cream when she's here. I can say, "Hey mom, would you like a bowl of that green ice cream you brought last week?" Because she'll say, "No, you eat it. I got one for myself. That's plenty." And then I walk around the corner where she can't see me and bang my head on the freezer.

Fortunately, for me at least, my little frozen dairy peasants are not so discriminating and they will often eat the strange and bizarre ice creams that materialize in the freezer.

After they've helped devour the flavors I like.


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And then there is a certain hubby who shall remain nameless who claims one day "I don't like chocolate" and then happily deposits the last spoonful of Double Fudge Brownie Death By Chocolate into his gaping gob the next.

You don't like chocolate. Riiiiiiight.

And then he'll say, "Well, only sometimes. But I like vanilla more."

So, the other day, I sliced up a banana, warmed up the hot fudge and reached into the freezer to get the ice cream.

Uh oh.

The container felt awfully light. I mean really light. Now, I knew when I put it back there was at least enough for a decent serving of chocolate/vanilla still in it. I opend the container to see about two tablespoons of chocolate in the corner.

WHAT THE CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How?! HOW could someone leave A TINY LUMP OF OCE CREAM IN THE BOX AND PUT IT BACK INTO THE FREEZER?????????!!!!!!!!

I can't exactly prove who did it but I have my suspicions.

Sigh.

What's a girl to do? I spooned the ice cream into the bowl of bananas and ate it.



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Last night I came home from the grocery store (again) and started to put the groceries away. Hubby sorted the various dry goods while I juggled some stuff into the chest freezer. Eventually I ran out of room. There were still some frozen items that needed a home so I opened the freezer half of our double door refrigerator. I tried to shift some things around but, as they say in the business, I was shit out of luck.

Then I saw the two ice cream containers that have been sitting on the shelf, mocking me, for the past 3 or 4 months. Mom ice cream.

I tried juggling a few more things all to no avail.

I looked back at the ice cream.

We stared each other down for a minute or two and then I said "Ok, this ice cream is going to have to go."

I picked the first carton out of the freezer. It was suspiciously light.

"It doesn't feel like there is even any ice cream in here." I set it on the counter to deal with later and picked the next carton out of the freezer. It was as light as the first. "I don't think there is any in this one either." I set that one on the counter next to the first and went back to stowing groceries.

I suppose curiosity got the best of hubby because he wandered over and opened up one of the ice cream containers and looked in. And started laughing. I turned to see what was going on and hubby said there was a note in the bottom of the ice cream carton.

It said "There's still a little speck right here. (with arrow pointing to said speck). Who's clever now?"

What?! I walked over and looked in. Sure enough. There was the note, in my son's handwriting, and a tiny speck of ice cream.

While I was gaping in disbelief at the first note, my hubby opened the other container and found the second note.

"Ha, ha. It's funny when I leave like 1 spoonful of ice cream in the container so somebody else can take care of it, right?"


I...don't even know what to say about this. I mean, I can understand the righteous indignation and all that but to take the time....

...notes in the ice cream container.....?