Saturday, October 20, 2012

Stir it up, little darlin’. Stir it up.

When we were kids, we weren’t allowed to play with our food. As a parent, I can understand that. Dinner time is the most frustrating time of the day for me, and it really makes me crazy when the boys yutz around and make a mess. So, there. I’m sure that my parents feel vindicated now that I have just typed that sentence.

But, we weren’t allowed to do anything with our food except eat it, and this extended to stirring our ice cream. This is a problem for a girl who would much rather have it all soft and of a malt/shake-like consistency instead of remaining in a scoop form. So, every time we had ice cream, I would inevitably get in trouble for playing with my food.

I did it anyway.

I still do. I am 42 years old, and I still get immense satisfaction from knowing that my dad’s head would explode if he saw me stirring my ice cream all together into a soft and runny-ish soup. Is that wrong?

And, although I would like to say that I allow the boys to do the same thing that would be a lie. I regularly find myself telling them to “just eat your food, already!”

Geez, lighten up, mom!

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