Don’t Touch the Neapolitan!

WARNING:  THE FOLLOWING POST MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR ALL AUDIENCES! 🙂

If you have been following my blog, you have noticed that I try to focus on the positives in daily life.  Well, I AM human..and there are times when I don’t stay so positive, calm, and collected.  As a matter of fact, on rare occasions,  I COMPLETELY lose my cool-just ask my husband and kids.  Last Saturday was one of those times…

I love ice cream, but have been trying to be “good” and not eat much of it lately.  Last Thursday I bought two half gallons of ice cream.  I bought cookie dough ice cream for my teenage son, and Neapolitan for my husband and myself.  On Friday, I went to the freezer to get a bowl of ice cream and all of the Neapolitan was gone.  There was still about half a tub of cookie dough left, but I refuse to waste calories and carbs on a flavor that I don’t even like.  I was irritated, but shrugged it off.  Nothing lasts long in this house (even now that most of the kids are grown).

Saturday I went grocery shopping.  I bought two more tubs of ice cream, both Neapolitan.  I also purchased a bottle of the chocolate hard shell stuff.  Shortly after I put the groceries away, I made myself a small bowl of ice cream…a teeny tiny little bowl…hardly anything in it.  I spent the evening in my bedroom, working on my blog post for Sunday.  It was about nine thirty pm and I really should have just gone to sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the ice cream in the freezer.  I decided to have one more bowl before bed, against my better judgement.  This is when things got interesting…

I walked through the living room on my way to the kitchen.  My husband was sitting in his recliner watching television.  I smiled and said “I’m going to get myself a snack”.  He replied “there’s nothing to snack on.”   “Oh, yes there is”, I said, “we have ice cream.”  He gave no reply, but I thought he was just engrossed in the show he was watching.

I first went to grab the bottle of hard shell topping and realized it was nearly empty.  I sighed and shook my head as I was walking to the freezer.  Disappointed because I really wanted some of that hard topping on my bowl of ice cream, I opened the door to the freezer.  Hmmm…where was it?  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the top of an empty ice cream tub in the trash can.  Wow, they ate one whole tub already.  Luckily, I bought two tubs of Neapolitan this time.  Looking deeper in the freezer, I finally spotted a tub of ice cream.  I pulled it out without paying much attention to it, and got out my bowl and favorite ice cream scoop.

When I opened the lid, it was that nasty cookie dough ice cream left from Thursday.  I HATE COOKIE DOUGH ICE CREAM!  I went back to the freezer and started frantically searching for the other container of Neapolitan.  Nothing.  NOTHING!!!

Here come the curse words……

“WHAT THE F–K?”  “WHERE IS ALL THE FU–ING ICE CREAM??”  From the living room I hear “I told you there was nothing to snack on.”  I screamed “YOU GUYS ATE TWO WHOLE FU–ING TUBS OF NEAPOLITAN ICE CREAM AND LEFT ME THIS COOKIE DOUGH S–T?”  Mr Calm said, “there wasn’t that much left.”

“I BOUGHT THEM FIVE HOURS AGO!” 

No reply.  I was PISSED, INFURIATED.  I took my hand, reached in the tub of cookie dough ice cream, grabbed a handful of the nasty crap, and stomped in the living room with ice cream oozing between my fingers.  I held my dripping hand up to my husband and said “Here’s what I think about this shi–y stuff” as I walked back to the kitchen sink and threw it in.  I continued to dig the rest of the ice cream out of the container with my bare hands, threw it in the sink, and ran hot water over it.  We have an open concept kitchen and living room, so I was assured my husband was seeing the entire spectacle.

I should have been finished by this point…but nooooooooo!  I couldn’t stop.  I was a madwoman.

I grabbed the nearly empty hard shell bottle and said “the rest of this is going, too.”   After pouring it in the sink and rinsing it out, I went to the fridge and grabbed the bag of bing cherries that I had just purchased.  “I’m going to throw these out, too.  I’m going to throw out everything, because I never get anything anyway.”   My husband simply and calmly said “well that wouldn’t be smart.”   GRRRRRRR….of course he was calm, he had a belly full of ice cream!

I finally came to my senses.  Bing cherries are expensive, and I love them.  Calm down, Christy…deep breaths…okay.  “I’m not throwing the bing cherries away, but if you touch them, you will be VERY sorry!”

I then went to my bedroom and fell asleep.  The next morning, I was fine.  Still irritated, but fine.  My son told me that he had only eaten one bowl of the first tub and none of the second tub.  Yep, it turns out that my husband ate the entire second tub of ice cream by himself!

I seriously do not usually throw huge fits like this, and I admit I do slightly regret the way I acted that night.  I can remember when the kids threw fits when they were younger. Once they got past a certain point, it was best to just leave them alone and let it run it’s course, because nothing we could say or do would calm them in the heat of the moment.  I feel the same way about myself on that Saturday night.  All is well, but don’t TOUCH my Neapolitan! 🙂