But I was a little excited.

I had a bit of a gigantic crappy day that was yesterday [to recap: car broke, work went insane, car was fixed but cost $203, the fake rain never landed at our house for the third day in a row, and Bee accidentally pulled out Gracie’s earring and the hole had partially closed, so I had to repierce the back of her ear. But! I’m going to ignore all of that and tell you something that happened this weekend. Something that will make me smile.

You all know my love for black raspberry ice cream and how for some ridiculous reason, Texas refuses to sell it. I can only indulge when I’m back home. Except for that one week when Kim found some at the magic Target where they sell our favorite kind of week; Dreyer’s wasn’t kidding when they said it was Limited Edition. When I went back to load up (you know, in addition to our 2 half-gallons), they were gone. I’ve checked every time I’ve gone back to that magic Target and nada.

Same thing went for regular Target and for the grocery store.

But I never stopped looking. Hey, I’ve lived here for twelve years, but what can it hurt to check the freezer aisle when you walk past? Nothing. And sometimes something like this will happen:

That, my friends, would be two shelves of Dreyer’s Limited Edition Black Raspberry ice cream. I came to a dead stop, shrieked a little, and whipped open the freezer door. I guess I caught the childrens as unawares as the ice cream caught me, because I kind of hit Gracie in the head with the whipping open of the freezer door. But don’t worry! It wasn’t that hard. She just yelled, “Mom! Uh…ow? You hit me.” I’m pretty sure that’s what she said anyway; I was hastily piling four half-gallons of ice cream into the cart like I was afraid they would disappear any second.

“Wait – what?” I asked her as I (somewhat) calmly strode towards the checkout lanes.

“YOU HIT ME with the door!” Gracie chuckled.

And then we all lost it. I was laughing, Gracie was giggling and re-enacting the scene, and Bee wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or admonish me. I’m sure she was wondering just where her mama went and who this laughing, half-crazed pod person was.

But s’all good – I have black raspberry ice cream. Alllll the ice cream.


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One Response to “But I was a little excited.”

  1. Kathy Says:

    She’s not holding your ice cream ranson or calling 1-800-4-A-Child?

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