My nephew and I enjoyed a nice picnic dinner before spending two hours hiking Kamiak Butte last night. We’d decided before the trip that we would treat ourselves to ice cream after we were done. We’d also decided that licorice ice cream would play a role in our double-scooped treats. We were so excited about this that on the descent we kept repeating ‘black licorice’ in silly voices (pretending, of course, that it was the trees encouraging us to have licorice ice cream).
I can’t begin to explain how distraught we both were when we got back to town and saw that the shop had closed 20 minutes before. It was truly devastating. The kid tried his best to console me with the promise that “we can get ice cream tomorrow instead” but it just didn’t help fill the deep sadness I felt inside… (OK, I may be gilding the lily a bit there, but really I was bummed about this.)
So, to make up for yesterday’s let-down, we decided to have ice cream for dinner tonight. Two scoops, thank you very much.
I had licorice and cherry cordial for my two scoops. The boy, in his most boring-est way, had two scoops of licorice. I don’t know why he didn’t want two different flavors other than he’s weird. But that’s OK. So am I!
I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!