we all scream for ice cream (redux)

Pretend she's holding some ice cream. Or something.

Ice cream is a commitment. I am here to share this news with you, as I had the realization several nights ago. The temperature had crept up into the 80's throughout the day, and by the time Chip and I were hanging out in our bedroom that night it was positively stuffy. We watched some TV, we talked, we tippity-typed on our laptops. All the while a creepy-crawly ICK came over me until I felt like I was going to jump out of my own skin with irritation. I threw the TV remote in Chip's direction and sighed (irritatingly - you have to make sure you're imagining it as a highly-charged irritated sigh) I AM SO IRRITATED. I FEEL ANNOYED. AND ITCHY. To which Chip replied, ME TOO. THOUGH NOT ITCHY. WHAT IS WRONG WITH US?

I left him contemplating that important question (we're certainly not the first to ask, and won't be the last, especially with the way I drive sometimes--- there are plenty of other drivers just tooling around the streets thinking WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER). I went downstairs to drown my sorrows in something creamy and cold. As in ice cream. I first thought along the lines of creamsicle. But decided against it and went with a much more standard dessert: vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce. It was then, when I was putting the Hershey's chocolate sauce back into the refrigerator that I spied the heaping bowl of deliciously delectable grapes. Which lead me to my thought: ice cream is a commitment. Even though the grapes were quite suddenly and oh-so-clearly the answer to my taste bud desire, the sweet nectar that would sooth my irritated self, even though I really really really wanted the grapes--- I was already holding a newly scooped but already a little melty bowl of vanilla with sauce. A commitment. I couldn't put it back. And trying to shelf the drippy thing in the freezer seemed like a bad idea.

So I went upstairs. And ate my commitment. And tried to be happy about it.

The end.



Though maybe not quite the end, because I need some feedback, kids. A do-I-or-don't-I question relating back to Friday's post. I suggested, on the next Friday (which makes it this coming Friday, look at how good I am with keeping track of dates and days) for the Three for Friday, we post three of our own favorite posts. I am not normally a follower-type of gal, but if I'm going to be the only one doing it I would feel just DUMB. I would feel a little bit OVERLY, if you get my drift. So let me know if you think it's a good idea, over there to the right. Or tell me so here in the comments. But before you vote or comment, let me make a brief case for going through with this idea: You are the best memory-keeper of your own posts, naturally. And you are also the most hardened critic of your own posts. Add to that, you might have some awesome back story on why a specific post makes it in your Own Personal Top Three. And I'm just nosy enough to want to know that back story. Also, I like to read about you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be reading your blog. That's the end of my reasons. I am now off to purchase MORE of the delectable grapes mentioned above. Because now they're all gone. And I am a sad Whimsy. You wouldn't like a sad grape-less Whimsy.

Edited to add: with some urging (ahem, SWISTLE and M), I'm adding a third option for the poll. Apparently there are SOME of you who will play but want to BLAME someone (namely me). I'm okay with that. Blame me. So long as you play along, you can blame me all you want! Even for OTHER THINGS, like global warming. And stuff.

Edited AGAIN to add: I can't change the poll because voting has already commenced. So just know that if you vote it's a GREAT idea, I'll know, deep down, that you're embarrassed and you're going to blame me. See above with me being okay with the blame. Okay then.