That's Life: Ice Cream Fever
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The ice cream truck arrived at dinnertime when I was visiting my daughter and her family in New York one summer. My grandchildren, Alyssa, then 8, and Nicholas, then 5, jumped up from their seats, but by the time they persuaded their mother to allow them to leave the table, the ice cream truck had disappeared.
I accompanied the children as they dashed to the corner, and then down the next block and the next block, searching for the truck. Under the heat of the summer sun, I became so parched, I saw a mirage in which water streamed from a closed fire hydrant.
Thank goodness, we caught up with the truck before thirst compelled me to scoop up the imaginary water.
A few moments later, as I licked an ice pop, my grandchildren thanked me for treating them to cones, but what most pleased me was a compliment they paid me.
"Grandma, you run as fast as a kid," Alyssa said, and Nicholas nodded in agreement, his brown eyes growing large with admiration — or was it surprise?
At home in Williamstown, I eat the ice cream I store in the freezer. And last week, the half-gallon container of X brand vanilla ice cream was more than half empty, but I did not take advantage of a buy-one-get-one-free sale in the supermarket I patronize.
With only myself dipping into my supply of ice cream, I thought it would be foolish to buy two half-gallons. Thus I failed to heed the little voice inside me that warned, "You'll be sorry."And sure enough, within the next two days, I emptied the container of ice cream at home, mixing a milk shake and giving into a late-night desire for a dish of that creamy, delight that always hits the spot, even when I am not sure just what I want.
So, there I was back at the supermarket the other day, mouth watering as I looked at X brand ice creams on display — it is the only brand I have bought for as far back as I can remember. No longer on sale, the price for a half gallon was almost $5.
But Y Brand was on sale at half the usual price. I perused the variety of Y ice creams, which included cookie dough, strawberry cheesecake and raspberry sundae. "Oh good, there's vanilla," I said to myself upon setting eyes on my favorite flavor.
But could I be a traitor and buy a brand that competed with X? Well, truth be told it was not loyalty that kept me from straying, but the thought of my taste buds rebelling when I slipped a spoon of what would be an alien ice cream into my mouth.
A woman who had been standing in front of the ice cream display case as long as I had - it's a wonder we both did not develop freezer burn - took a container from the case and read the nutrition label.
"No matter what we eat it will kill us," I said. "Yes," she responded. "So we might as well eat what we like and die happy."
When I mentioned that "X" was my favorite brand of ice cream, the woman said, "My daughter is a nutritionist and she says X is the best. But once in a while I sneak another brand into the house."
Despite what I had said in jest earlier, I do try to buy healthy foods, or at least those that are less harmful to our health. The information the woman had volunteered, therefore, led me to think, "Hmm, I had best wait until X brand is on sale again." How long I will be able to go without ice cream without suffering from withdrawal, I do not know. But if and when my symptoms become severe, I will just have to shell out the $5 for a half-gallon of X.
No matter how you look at it, that would be less costly than seeking aid for overcoming the conditions brought on by withdrawal — a psychiatrist's fee for treating depression and a doctor's fee for making sure there is no other reason for my losing weight than abstaining from ice cream.
