I was young when the love affair began. My strong will to be healthy falls prey to this guilty pleasure. Even after all this time, it only grows stronger.
I love ice cream.
I do. I love ice cream. There’s really no other way to spin it. I grew up with parents that instilled this love in me, and I’m not going to change it. Sure, I’ll learn some self control when it comes to consumption frequency, but it won’t change.
I remember a time when my dad would pile me and my brothers in the car and take us to Dairy Queen. I always ordered a Reese’s Blizzard with extra Reese’s. Some of your mouths are watering, and the rest of you just don’t understand.
When my two oldest brothers started playing sports, they weren’t home as often. That didn’t stop my dad from treating me and Nathan. There was a season when we went to Dairy Queen every Tuesday for 99-cent banana splits. Except we would tell them to hold all of the toppings and bananas and just use Reese’s… and they would.
One Tuesday after my strange ice cream order, the manager reached over and squeezed my hand. He told me that I was such a pretty little girl that he would make the special order himself. The romance continued.
It’s no wonder this love affair remains after all of these years.
Just the other day I was passing a Dairy Queen at 9am and considered a morning Reese’s Blizzard. It was the same Dairy Queen where it all began. I would have stopped if I wasn’t late getting back to the office.