Not in this house, you don't--but that's another topic. I am referring to the dessert of presidents and kings, of all of us great and small, those who have a palette for the finer tastes and those who do not. Drum roll, please, or perhaps a choir of angelic voices.....
Ice Cream
You know my staples--chocolate, peanut butter and coffee. But with the heat and golden sunlight of summer, as well as the occasional hot flash (when, dear God, do these END???) I need ice cream daily.
It's no wonder my diet stalls. I have worked peanut butter and a square of eighty-five per cent cacao into my plan, no problem, and still lose about a half pound most weeks. Then the weather finally warmed to the eighties. Yes, I am lapping up the heat. As one who usually prefers the sixties in life and temperature, this is a miracle of sorts.
This year is different in many ways. I am relishing every minute, including heat. Eighty-two, however, sent me to checking out my stash in the freezer--frozen Italian Ice, freezer pops, sugar-free fudge bars and a half gallon of cheap Neapolitan (minus most of the strawberry).
Ice cream and its cousins take care of heat in more ways than one. It's medicinal, you understand.
I've been very antsy lately. I'm tired of my sciatica preventing me from white watering and protesting when I try to work out at the gym. I'm sick of driving over a hundred miles a day for work. I'm tired of always having to postpone my dreams now that I know where my heart lies. I don't smoke and despite my bravado, I ordinarily drink only on occasional weekends. So, I guess I need a vice. I choose ice cream. Sue me.
By the time I am on my second Italian Ice or fudge pop, the hot flash cools to a gentle warm breeze. My temper loses its bite to the cool, creamy confection. My nerves calm as soon as the frozen chocolate tangles with my taste buds.
At lunchtime my standard fare of tuna, crackers, yogurt and fruit aren't especially appealing, so I take the drive-through. For a buck and change, I slurp up 120 calories of frozen yogurt. It isn't Ben and Jerry's, but it works.
How many of the world's ills could be resolved if leaders would share a banana split? Sounds simplistic, but how can anyone stay angry while his mouth is full of pineapple syrup and crushed nuts? Wrap your tongue around the whipped cream and you'll see what I mean.
Surely God was smiling when the first man sweetened his snowball with maple syrup. He must have chuckled when man (or more likely woman) found a way to fold fruit and nuts into frozen cream. He probably rolled on the clouds when somebody plopped it into a cone. Now they get it! I'm sure He roared.
As I write I am working on the strawberry section of the Neapolitan.. There were a few berries left, and I added them, too. It is soft, like when I used to stir it into mush as a kid. I had almost forgotten this little indulgence. It makes me laugh out loud at the sheer pleasure of it.
I feel so much better. My body is cool, my temperament has calmed. Tomorrow I will park farther from my account or walk a little farther at the Y. Maybe I'll ride an extra mile on the recumbent bike, or try to get the hang of the elliptical.
One way or another, my diet will include ice cream.
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