Ice Cream Confessions

The Adorable Husband has insisted that I post this anecdote about myself (since I so gleefully made fun of my sister borrowing a lamp during a power outage). He has made the comment that his family just doesn't divulge that sort of minorly embarassing stuff to all and sundry. Where's the fun in that? My family? Oh, pretty much any bone-headed thing you do is going to make the rounds at every family gathering for years to come.

Many moons ago. the Adorable Husband bought a truly inspired flavor of ice cream: Dreyers Ultimate Caramel Cup. Caramel ice cream, caramel swirl and--the best part--caramel filled chocolate chips.

Mmmmmmm. Caramel-filled chocolate chips. Like teensy little Rollo candies. Bliss.

At first, we ate the ice cream like normal people. But then, in what I now shall call The Perfect Crime, I started to pick out the caramel cups and just eat those.

Soon, this was not enough. I discovered that if I left the ice cream out for just a bit to get soft, I could root through the entire carton of ice cream, eating ALL the caramel cups, and then sort of squish the ice cream back down into the bottom of the container so it looked all normal again. Like I said, The Perfect Crime.

The poor Adorable Husband must have wondered if there was some sort of manufacturing problem, that the top of the container had plenty of chocolate bits, and the bottom half was strangely devoid of anything resembling a Caramel-filled chocolate chip.