Remember this little ditty? It was first published in 1927, and I wasn’t around to hear it then. But I’ve known the phrase my whole life and have taken it seriously. Even if you all are not screaming for ice cream, I’m screaming loud enough for all of us.

So it’s natural for me when I get a prompt from a writing teacher to write about my favorite food that I will write about ice cream. While I was thinking about it from my class assignment last week, my kids gave me a birthday party. My DIL announced that since the birthday girl’s favorite ice cream flavor is butter pecan, everyone who wanted ice cream with their white frosted birthday cake would have to have butter pecan. What joy it was to see every one eating “my” ice cream. I hoped, though, they’d leave some for me.

While guests were telling stories, my BIL shared this: “When you have Lois along, you know you’re going to have to stop for ice cream.” He went on to tell of a hilarious time that Marv and I had stumbled on he and his wife at a hotel on our way to LA for a wedding. Our encounter was not planned at all. We tailgated them all the way to LA but stopped for fresh fish along the way. That’s a story by itself. But after the fish, I guess I insisted on ice cream.

That’s kind of rough to have someone tell that story to close friends and relatives at your party, especially when you’re thinking you’re don’t have that many days left in the month to weigh in for your monthly Lifetime Member weigh-in at Weight Watchers, and this AZ holiday so far has derailed your resolve. And you know already that you’re going to have to pay the monthly fee because there have been several ice cream jaunts so far, and the calories have all landed on your body.

But I digress…the writing assignment. Since I was too busy snacking on left over ice cream in our freezer, I didn’t have time to write an essay about it, but I did make time to write a list of items that could be included in an essay in the future:

1. Uncle Bill Luce’s ice cream place on Long Island where I first learned to love coffee ice cream
2. Asking my mother for a nickel to buy an orange dreamscicle from the Good Humor truck I could hear ding-a-linging up the street, my mother saying no, we had ice cream in the freezer, my running upstairs to my dad’s study, asking the same question and being given a nickel
3. Moving from Long Island to IN and being able to find coffee ice cream only at Howard Johnson’s
4. Experiencing a blank of ice cream memories while living in my next states of MI and MN–was there no ice cream there? Was I too busy going to school, marrying, and mothering to think about ice cream? I do remember many tales about chocolate malt balls–maybe they were my substitutes then.
5. Finally, moving to IL–there was Peterson’s in Oak Park where I inhaled a few hot fudge sundaes with a friend, gobbled down Rainbow Cones at the annual Chicago Fest downtown, and licked endless double scoops in sugar cones at Plush Horse. (Plush Horse cones became my afternoon break several times a week when I was writing my dissertation.)
6. Moving to SD where there were NO hard ice cream shops. Imagine having to slurp through mushy twists of mush. Finally, now there are two shops selling hard ice cream. (Yes, I know I can always buy it at a grocery store, but the experience is not the same.)
7. Vacationing at South Haven and making nightly excursions for Sherman’s ice cream where you order one scoop and get three! An ice cream lover’s dream fulfilled!
8. Taking a quick road trip back to IL a few months ago and managing over my four-day stay to go to Plush Horse four times. (Ice cream can become dinner you know.)
9. And now, to my delight and downfall, in AZ there is Handel’s. You order one scoop and get three AND a half. Add to that the fact that I celebrated turning 80 the entire month of January which included several trips to Handel’s (I also HAD to go because different groups wanted to go).

That’s all the rambling I can do for now. I’m catching the last possible WW meeting in the area for this month. I will follow that rule to weigh monthly, even though I know I’ll have to pay. Boo hoo. Wish me better self control In February because more folks are coming to visit, and I’m going to have to tell them about Handel’s. Maybe some day I’ll have the time to write the assigned essay about ice cream as my favorite food.

(No time to add photos this week. Good excuse, huh. No time, but also I don’t want to tempt you to follow my demise by making your mouth water. Off to the scale!)